Ashlands to Akavir
by M'jai
Summary: Sequel to "Menzoberranzan to Morrowind", but perhaps readable as a standalone. The Nerevarine has taken an excursion to Akavir, and hasn't been heard from since. A mutual friend has sent a Drow messenger to ask for Kielanai's help, but the Akaviri-Altmer bard already has her hands full trying to close all those Oblivion gates ... or rather, trying to avoid them.
1. Chapter 1: Akaviri Kojima Threshold

_Ashlands to Akavir_

by M'jai

December 2006

Lastest Revision: September 2012

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Credits and Author's Notes:

1. Bethesda – creator of the _Elder Scrolls_ world setting, the game _Oblivion_, and all relative NPC characters, and Main Quest plot references.

2. Wizards of the Coast – owners of _Forgotten Realms_ world setting, and all relative NPC characters, and event references. What I've presented regarding the Demonweb is inspired by "The Harrowing" from _Dungeon_ magazine #84, rather than any more recent publications regarding this setting.

3. Cutthroat Mods – creator of the "Partners" mod for the game _Morrowind_, and the original Talvalo companion, upon which my own Talvalo was based.

4. Talkie Toaster's "Companion Share and Recruit" mod for the game _Oblivion_, in which Elaren Phaeras, Korg mag-Uruk, Therana Relas, and Durain Sharl are from the four generals that can be recruited as companions.

5. Mairiel is a character developed by a dear friend for one of our D&D games. I take no credit for her creation and reference her only for the role she once played in Daerazal's past.

6. The poem Daerazal recites is based on an original poem credited to Mystyp Folksong. The drinking song that Talvalo sings is something I found on the Internet ages ago, but I do not know who to give credit to for it. I did not create the original references.

7. The Akaviri island in this story is from a mod designed by me for my PC in the game _Oblivion._ Kielanai, Daerazal, and Chizrae are based on altmer and drow concepts from the above listed game worlds, but all other individual characters are my own creations, unless otherwise noted.

I make no claim on characters, settings, or plot elements that were not created by me.

))((

Introduction:

This story is a sequel to my _Morrowind/ Forgotten Realms_ cross-over fan-fic _Menzoberranzan to Morrowind_. However, I am trying to write it as a stand-alone, so that reading the Morrowind story is optional.

To hard-core fans of _Elder Scrolls_: I am well-versed in the lore of the Elder Scrolls world, but since this it is a cross-over and based on player-created mods, there is a limit to its lore-friendly logic. One logic flaw concerns the Nerevarine. NPC's and in-game literature refer to the Nerevarine as "him", but by making "him" the player character, Bethesda opened the door to a million possible Nerevarines created by the players. My Nerevarine in the game was a female dark elf (more specifically, a Drow, rather than a Dunmer). This creates a dilemma for some mod and fanfic writers wanting to work with the Nerevarine because they either have to be vague or choose to work with their own familiar PC. I have chosen to stick with my familiar version of "her". Another logic flaw comes in any references I may make to Japanese language or culture. Japan is not part of Akavir any more than katanas could be Akaviri, or any Earth-origin language could serve as the official language of Tamriel. But since Akavir is based on Asian lore, and Japan is the only part of Asia in which I have lived, Japan will be my reference point for my own imagined portion of Akavir. Also, I realize there is controversy in ES lore about humans in Akavir because of the way certain passages are worded in the in-game books regarding the Tsaesci's treatment of humanity. One race can "devour" another physically or culturally … or both. I have chosen to walk a path between the two.

For hard-core fans of _Forgotten Realms_: I used to write Underdark games on-line, but it's been a few years ago. At one time, I could say I was well-versed in Underdark lore, as well, but my memory is fuzzy and outdated now. I will try to be accurate up to the point where I last read the novels (through the _Spider Queen War_).

For Everyone else: if you love either of these game worlds, or enjoy light or dark elves in literature, you might enjoy this story. There are **_major game spoilers_ **throughout this story. Consider yourself warned. Dialog and action, however, will not be exact. This is partly due to the difficulty of trying to tell a linear story based on a non-linear game, and partly due to me not wanting to give a line-by-line recount of it so that I can create something new. I do have to retell parts of the main quest in order to get past it, but my focus is the side-story going on around and beyond it. Now, on with the show ...

))((

Chapter 1: Akaviri Kojima: Threshold

Warm mist rose from the bodies on the floor around her in the cold stillness of the morning air. The blade of her katana was newly stained with blood. The willowy half-Altmer bard had fought her way into that old farmhouse as if she were a Nord-blooded warrior. She was left stunned and exhausted at how difficult it had been - not at all like defending oneself from a mere wolf attack. Taking one last look around, Kielanai sheathed her razor-sharp weapon and walked back into the crisp autumn sunshine that was slowly attempting to bring the small island back to life.

Akaviri Kojima had been shrouded in mystery for as long as anyone who knew of it could remember. People who went there never came back. Halfway between the land of the humans and the land of the elves, swallowed by the Abecean Sea, this remote piece of land oddly mirrored her own half-bred heritage. Born to an Akaviri father and an Altmer mother, Kielanai had once been lost at sea, too. But always in her mind, this faraway place was home. Now, she had found her way back just before dawn, after a lifetime of not knowing how to retrace her steps.

Kielanai pushed a sea-water soaked strand of long, silver hair behind one small, sharp ear and cast her aqua-colored eyes toward the sun sluggishly rising over the red-tiled roof of the island's grand estate on the hill. She rubbed a chill from her golden arms and stumbled across the stone-paved road toward the small skiff beached near the dock. Seagulls cried out and dragonflies buzzed past her. Their day was just beginning. Hers was finally - thankfully - over.

She trembled feeling hot and then cold with waves of nausea until they overpowered her, bringing her to her knees among the rushes. There, she was violently sick for a moment. Victory did not come without a price upon the conscience, but at least now her soul could be at peace.

Dragging herself from the sand back to her feet, she climbed into the skiff and rowed it back to its mother ship, a large pirate galleon anchored a safe distance from the beach. The ship, like the island, was now hers - a trophy won from tricking them into giving her passage back to the place of her birth. Climbing the ropes to the upper deck, she hauled the skiff back into its hooks and secured its ropes.

Heading into the captain's cabin, she paused in the shadows and listened carefully to the creaking old wood to determine whether it was merely the waves lapping against the side of the ship, or someone hiding in the lower quarters, waiting for a chance to stab her in the back. Trembling and drawing her katana again, she headed down the trap door to the mid-deck and followed along the cramped hall toward a small room with a few dingy bunks.

"Gwenyth?" she spoke as she approached the room she had safely hidden the other woman in.

A long time ago, the Breton alchemist had come to the island for the first time, by invitation from Kielanai's mother, to collect a few rare ingredients from her garden. Kielanai's father was rumored to have been a pirate among pirates, secretly intercepting other Akaviri vessels for the Empire, like his father before him in hopes of avoiding all-out war again, ... or so Gwenyth had heard. Apparently the rumors were true because one dark-flagged fleet caught up to them the night of her visit.

When the raid occurred, Kielanai's mother had shoved her daughter into Gwenyth's hands and begged her to take her away before the pirates found her. Gwenyth, a very independent lady in her own right, had not wanted to be stuck with a child she didn't know, who couldn't even speak her language. But when she saw what kind of pirates had invaded the island - half-man, half-snake creatures that feasted upon their prisoners - Gwenyth grabbed the child's hand and ran without looking back.

Their small boat capsized after nearly suffering a direct hit from the pirates' battlemage's spells, but Gwenyth fought to keep the small child with her during her entire struggle to reach shore once more. She had waited in Anvil for days, trying to nurse the nearly drowned child back to health, but when no one from her family came for her, she knew to expect the worst. Gwenyth quietly wrapped the child in blankets and hired an escort to see them safely back to her home in Weye, where she fixed a small cot in the attic for her. She had been tolerating Kielanai's company ever since.

Some days, the half-elf's energetic, accident-prone, chatty nature was almost more than the aging Breton alchemist could handle, but Kielanai knew she would not have survived beyond childhood, if not for the reluctant human. For that reason, she hated to disappoint her.

Kielanai sheathed her sword and paused apologetically before kneeling by the bedside. "Gwenyth, we're here. We're home. But ... I've done something horrible," she whispered in confession. "I know you taught me to stay away from the path of revenge. You have always told me there is no honor in stooping to spite. And I've always tried to be kind, but ... what is the benefit of running from those who would hurt us, if not to someday overcome them?"

She lay her bruised cheek on the bed's edge, like she used to do when she needed comfort as a child. "I'm sorry it made you angry when I left. I was going to explain when I returned to Weye. If you had just waited until I came back ..." She closed her eyes and tried to release her heavy thoughts along with her tears.

"My hunch was right. He showed me the way back to Akaviri Kojima. And then ... when the time was right ... I killed him." Kielanai buried her face in her hands to cry. "I killed all of them," she whispered. "I couldn't stop myself once I ..." She lowered her bloodied hands and looked at their stark truth, fearing that what she heard about the Dark Brotherhood visiting her in her sleep after murdering someone might be true.

Her hands curled into fists, and she became angry all over again for a moment. "But they deserved to die! When the gods and the laws do not deliver justice ... how else can we defend ourselves?" Tears continued to well in her aqua-colored eyes. "Did I do the right thing? I just don't know anymore. Please tell me I've done the right thing. I mean, ... they probably hurt other people, too, right? But they didn't know who I really was. They trusted me."

Her hands reached for the small white urn under the bed where she knelt, and she drew it to her chest, still pained at her recent loss. "_Obaasan_, how I wish you could tell me what to do now. Should I turn myself in? Should I say nothing? I'd listen to you this time - without running away."

Kielanai sat in overwhelming uncertainty, wiping the tears from her cheeks. Then, after a long moment, ... she knew. She knew what Gwenyth would say if she were still alive. _Memories can serve as consequences, too, Child. Don't give your memories an excuse to haunt you._ The old Breton human was sometimes more elven in personality than she would ever care to admit.

The tall, slender half-elf stood, clutching the urn close to her. Making her way back through the tight confines of the mid-deck, she left the dark interior of the ship for the brightness of the sun and rowed back to shore. After hopping out of the skiff, she sloshed her way through the cattails to the dry beach once more, careful to avoid the area where she had lost any remnant of last night's meager dinner. There in the white sand, she dropped to her knees once more and set the urn down firmly before bowing her palms and forehead to the ground before it.

"_Obaasan_, you honored my family's wishes to protect my life; therefore, you are also my family. I will use the life that you gave me to rebuild their legacy ... and yours. All of you live on through me ... so that I may pirate the pirates like my father, and grandfather before me." She sat back on her heels and stared at the urn for another moment before trying to smile through her sadness. "And then I will tell stories about it around the hearth fires in all the taverns across the Empire," she added, though she imagined the stodgy old Breton would have protested that last line in her vow.

After a moment, though, her brows dipped in concern as she continued to think aloud. "That Akaviri pirate gang has been on this island for most of my life now. They probably have connections to other gangs ... maybe even connections with gangs back in Akavir. And if there's one thing the Empire doesn't need right now, it's trouble from Akavir. When I return to Weye to gather my things for the move here, I will speak with the captain of the guard. If he arrests me again ... so be it. But maybe they will grant me a pardon when he learns who they were. Maybe Martin would ..."

She stopped herself before following that train of thought too far. Martin had his own problems, and she had a promise to keep to him first. This whole incident with the pirates had pulled her away from a more important task - finding the Amulet of Kings so that he could be restored to the throne of his birthright.

Confident with her decision, but dreading her gruesome clean-up task, Kielanai stood and walked back toward the farmhouse to begin gathering the old wood and thatch for a funeral pyre for the bodies left in her infuriated, desperate wake. As she rounded the back of the farmhouse, though, a pretty little bridge over a pond caught her eye. "Hmm?" She frowned slightly. "I don't remember that being there when I was a child."

Carrying her armful of lumber with her, she headed down the grassy slope to the bridge and crossed it toward a big rock facing Valenwood when an invisible force at the end suddenly repelled her. The push was so strong that it caused her to drop all her kindling, and she nearly landed flat on her back. Stunned by the discovery, she ignored the logs rolling down the arc of the boardwalk into the water and drew close to the force once more to press her hands against it. It was like a wall. Closer inspection revealed a shimmer in the wood grain - pearl powder and fragments. Gwenyth's alchemy training had come in handy for recognizing enchantments after all.

Puzzled, she pressed the invisible force field once more, then drew her hand back again. "A bridge to nowhere ..." That hardly seemed likely, but there was no way to unlock the mystery now. Everyone who had ever lived on the island was dead, except herself.

The golden-skinned half-elf sighed to herself in frustration, then set about retrieving her kindling. She had to clear the bodies, so she could rebuild. She had a new home to repair.

))((

Throughout the remainder of the Gold Coast's mild winter and into the spring thaw, the half-Altmer worked hard to transform the dilapidated condition of the Akaviri farmhouse, stable, bath houses, and hill estate. She dubbed the pirate ship with a new name - the _Crystal Maiden _- and worked to clean it up with a few renovations as well.

She returned to Gwenyth's cottage to gather all of her personal belongings and anything that her adopted mother left behind of value. Then, she packed it on her old, half-blinded, dapple-gray horse, Mirabel, from the stable and took her baby cougar, Mouzer, back from a neighbor's care.

The bard gave one last lute and dance performance at the Wawnet Inn for her local friends and notified them of her move to Anvil. Telling them about Akaviri Kojima would have been pointless, and telling them about her encounter with the pirates might be dangerous. She did, however, keep her promise about notifying the guards.

The new captain of the guard nearly did have her arrested again, but when she dropped the name of the heir to the throne and stated that she had been specially commissioned by Martin to aid with the current Oblivion crisis, they checked her credentials with the Blades and released her. Not a word of thanks was given for taking down the pirates, but she wasn't about to press her luck. Kielanai prayed for clear weather and took one last look at her old home before leaving again for her new one.

Coming home to the stone dragons scattered about the island made her feel reborn. This was a landmark in her life, and she knew it. Fate and fortune had been on her side, and she would do what she could to return the favor.

This would be a fine place for Mirabel to graze away her remaining days. The stables neighbored a sheep fold, and the pirates had apparently confiscated some livestock from somewhere because she doubted those were the same animals she had grown up with. Nevertheless, their wool would come in handy come next winter.

Mouzer stalked grasshoppers in the high grass while the elf moved her belongings from ship to shore and unpacked. And in the cool of the starry evening, she rested on one of the outdoor benches and watched the deer forage for spring morsels. Those deer had survived on the island ever since she could remember. Training Mouzer to leave them alone might prove difficult in the future, but for now the baby cougar was content to chase grasshoppers.

With the ground warming toward mid-spring, Kielanai knew she had missed the best opportunity to break ground for her garden, but the few fruit trees in the orchard behind the estate could provide summer food for her until Gwenyth's seeds could supply her with a vegetable harvest. And the rice harvest from the paddy beyond the stables would be ready by fall. If worse came to worst ... there was always the deer or the sheep, but she hated to consider that option.

Slowly, but surely, the old, run-down place began to look like those distant memories that she cherished. Between the carpentry work and tending the new seedlings, Kielanai had no time for entertaining company on the island. But she often took her skiff to the Anvil docks to buy supplies or perform at the local tavern and inn.

One middle-aged Altmer mage in particular took an interest in her when he learned that she was Gwenyth's adopted daughter. Elaren and Gwenyth had been friends in the Mage Guild, and he was saddened to hear of her passing, so he offered to aid Kielanai with any alchemy or enchantment questions when she needed help. She told him of the mysterious bridge on her island, and he even ventured to inspect it himself once, but Elaren came to the same conclusion she had. There was no way of unlocking the protective ward without knowing more about it.

Other than the bridge, Kielanai's life gradually began to fall into place. Her mind began to dull to the plight of the amulet she was supposed to have been seeking for Martin. The Blades were competent body guards. Surely they would find it before she could anyway. She was just a bard. She was better off tending her new herbs, restoring her family home, and singing and dancing in taverns. Though she intended to travel again once her garden could survive without her for a time, she never wanted to set foot near another Oblivion Gate again as long as she lived. Her last experience inside of one had frightened her to death.

"This is my paradise," she told Mouzer one night when they sat alone under the cherry blossoms near the small garden waterfall. "My threshold to a new life. And this time ... no one will take it from me."

The baby cougar purred like a Dwemer engine in agreement as she scratched his ears.

))((

One day during the last days of spring, Elaren was in his own garden behind his manor when he heard the rusted gate near the vegetable patch swing open. The Altmer mage lifted his attention from his carrots to his unexpected guest and saw a dark elf in light black and silver armor approaching him. It was nothing unusual for dark elves to pay him a visit, considering the Mage Guild was full of them, but this one he didn't know. More than that, this had to be the darkest dark elf he had ever seen, so he knew there was something different about this visit.

"Are you Elaren Phaeras?" the dark elf asked, coming to a stop at the edge of the garden.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I am. What can I help you with, Sir?"

"I'm looking for a bard named Kielanai - an Altmer with mixed Akaviri blood. I was told she came from the village of Weye outside of Imperial City, but they said she had moved to Anvil. When I asked for her whereabouts at the local inn, they said you could probably tell me where to find her."

Elaren dusted the dirt from his gloves and carefully stepped around his carrots to stand before the stranger. His eyes briefly inspected the dark elf's armor and the long sword at his hip - namely to see if they had been recently bloodied. Though the dark elf was a smaller stature than himself, he was clearly a fighter of some kind and wore a serious, somewhat unfriendly expression. "I _might_ know where to find her ... depending on what sort of business you have with the lass."

"That's for her ears only, I'm afraid, but I assure you it's not hostile in nature."

"Then, perhaps I could bring her to meet with you here this evening or tomorrow. Do you have a name that I could pass along to her?"

"Daerazal Velve'Xukuth, but I've come to give her a message from a mutual friend who couldn't make the journey himself. I'll leave my travel bag and weapons behind, if you like, but I've come all the way from Morrowind, and the message is of an urgent nature. So, if you don't mind, I'd like to see her as soon as possible." The dark elf removed his shoulder pack and unbelted his sword, offering them both to the Altmer.

"Morrowind ..." Elaren's eye's widened with mild surprise, but then he chuckled lightly. "My heavens! I should have guessed you'd come in from the Ashlands or something." His gaze went to the offered items. "Well, if you were honest enough to offer them as a matter of trust, then I suppose you can be trusted not to harm the poor girl. She's been through an awful mess trying to reclaim her childhood home I'm afraid I must insist on accompanying you to see her, though."

"Fair enough." Daerazal strapped his sword back on and hefted his pack to his shoulder once more.

"Just let me lock up and get my things." Elaren led the way along his front porch to his front door and invited the dark elf inside. Setting his gloves on the table by the entrance, he reached for his staff and keys.

Daerazal glanced around the sunny home's interior, but then stepped outside and reached into the pocket of his pack to retrieve a small pair of wire spectacles that had black, circular lenses and placed them on the bridge of his nose.

The older elf locked his door and turned around to face the dark spectacles with a minor start. "Goodness, what are those things?"

"Dwemer sun shades - a gift from my sister."

"Oh. Remarkable. I've heard many things about the Dwemer and seen some of their artifacts at the Arcane University, but that's a new one to my knowledge. I supposed all those ash storms from Red Mountain could block out enough sunlight that the eyes become unaccustomed to seeing it shine so brightly as it does here on the Gold Coast. It goes to reason, of course, but that shows you how little I know about the Ashlands and its people." Elaren grinned and gestured with his staff for the dark elf to follow. As they walked down the steps and through the small front gate of his manor home, he decided to see what else he could find out about this stranger. "Did you come over land or - "

"Down through the Deshaan Plain, across the Velothi Mountains to Nibenay. Then, from Bravil it was a straight cut through the wilderness across the southern borders of Cyrodiil to Anvil."

"Quite a journey," the gold elf remarked as he led the way down the brick-cobbled street and past the colorful buildings of the coastal city.

"Yes, it was." Daerazal squinted into the sun in spite of his Dwemer shades and glanced up at the seagulls noisily flying overhead in the same direction they were headed.

"Did you arrive today?"

"Yes."

"You must be absolutely exhausted. In fact, I'm surprised you made it here at all. We have a hunter in town that talks of all the wild animals beyond Anvil's walls, and I know there are plenty of goblins in the area. You must be quite the ranger."

Daerazal sighed at the other elf's small talk. "No, I just don't like anything trying to take a chunk out of my hide."

"Did you pass any Oblivion Gates along your way?" Elaren asked with concern as they passed through the dock gates to the city's waterfront district.

"Oblivion Gates?"

"I guess not. Well, that's a good sign then, although people are beginning to say that a few more have been spotted in remote locations. They're ... well, they're portals into Oblivion. Have you not heard the news from Imperial City? The Emperor and his sons were assassinated, and now the pact with the Daedric princes has been broken. The Dragon Fires have been extinguished. They say the Empire is doomed to fall into chaos now. A portal opened right outside of Kvatch and daedra poured out of it completely destroying the place. Not many survivors from what I hear. Now people are afraid it will start happening elsewhere, as well."

"I had heard the news about the Emperor's death, but not the gate."

"It's dreadful - absolutely dreadful. Who knows what's going to happen to us next if someone doesn't find a way to light those Dragon Fires again." Elaren shook his head and led the way down the dock to the lighthouse, but then stopped.

Daerazal looked around and then looked back to the mage. "Does she live in the lighthouse?"

"No. She lives out there." He raised his staff to point to the open water.

Daerazal turned his gaze toward the ocean and became slightly disgusted at the _aid_ this high elf had offered. "If she lives in Valenwood, you could have just said that. I could have taken a ship down the river."

"No ship except her own sails to where Kielanai lives because it doesn't exist on any map. She lives on a private island that she prefers to keep private. How do you feel about water-walking spells? Boats always upset my stomach."

Daerazal looked out over the endless water with doubt. "You expect me to cross that much ocean on magic? How far is it, and how long will the spell last?"

"The spell will last just long enough to reach her shores, I should think."

"You _think_?" The dark elf wasn't happy with that answer, but he didn't protest as the mage cast the spell over each of them. "Wizards ..." he muttered to himself, but then followed the older elf out onto the water's surface. Hesitating for a moment, he looked down at his boots with worry. Salt water sloshed over his toes and ankles. The surface under his feet felt solid, thin, and slippery - like wet glass. Starting to sweat about it, he made himself tear his gaze away from the water and focus on the mage.

Elaren smiled quietly at the warrior's mistrust of magic. So typical of those not trained in the arts. "If you're afraid of slaughterfish, they _usually_ don't bother leaping out of the water to hunt on the surface."

"Slaughterfish don't scare me. I've seen much worse, believe me."

"Then perhaps it is the depths of the suffocating water itself. We cannot see the bottom, and deep, dark water has too many deadly advantages over a mere sword … or even magic."

"An observation I'd rather not reflect on at the moment," the dark elf groused.

Using the western shoreline of Valenwood as his guide, Elaren estimated the location of the unmarked island. A spot of land eventually appeared in the distance, but the mage continued walking at a leisurely pace, until he reached solid land. "Here we are – Akaviri Kojima."

The dark elf gratefully touched the sand with his fingertips and sighed with relief.

Elaren led the way across the cobbled path at the dock toward the farm house's front door. "As I said before, you'll not find any boats willing to bring you here, so if you need a second trip, you'll have to come back to me or purchase a water-walking scroll for yourself."

Daerazal glanced over his shoulder to the large galleon anchored just off the dock to his right and the large, white dragon statue to his left before turning his attention to their destination - a small, white, plastered building with a blue ceramic-tiled roof beneath the limbs of a giant ginko tree.

Elaren paused on the large, flat door stone next to a bronze dragon lamp and used the carved end of his staff to rap on the old wooden doors. "Kielanai? Are you home?" He used his staff to knock again and waited a moment to hear a response, but received none. "She might be at the other end of the island or in the main estate. I'll go search for her there. You can keep trying here. This is the one she lives in."

))((

Daerazal watched the mage wander through the tall yellow and green grass up the cobbled path toward the large estate at the top of the hill. With its red, ceramic-tiled roof and multiple dragon-gargoyle guardians, it was much more impressive than the little farmhouse. He wondered why she had chosen to live in the smaller home.

Knocking on the door of the farmhouse, he called her name as the mage had. But after a moment of continued silence, he decided to check around the back of the house. He removed his sun shades, though the sun was still painfully bright, and set them down with his pack. Finding the path down to the paddy behind the stable, he followed it and soon saw the half-Altmer wading through the shallow water, checking her rice plants. "Kielanai?" he called to her as he started down the slope to the water's edge.

The bard looked up, startled that someone else was on her island. She became even more startled when she saw that it was someone she didn't know, and that he was armed. Drawing the dagger at her waist, she held it arm's length between herself and the approaching dark elf. "Not a step closer! I've taken on worse than you and lived to tell about it."

He made no move to match her defensive stance or coax her out of hers, but he did step down into the marshy paddy with her. "Are you Kielanai, formerly of Weye?"

"Who are you, and what are you doing on my island without invitation?"

The warrior crossed his open palms over his chest - a sign that he had no intention of drawing a weapon on her. "My name is Daerazal Velve'Xukuth. I've come from Morrowind with an urgent message from a mutual friend – Talvalo Shalonethyr."

Kielanai nearly dropped the blade that she held. "Talvalo? He's in Morrowind now? Why didn't he just deliver the message himself?"

"He's staying home with his son."

Kielanai lowered the arm that held the dagger, but her face still registered her shock. "He has a son?"

"An infant too young to make this kind of journey, but his wife is in danger. He thinks you might be able to help."

"Why me?"

"He says you're half-Akaviri. Do you know how rare it is to find someone with Akaviri blood in Tamriel? Or more importantly, do you remember anything of your former culture?"

She sheathed the dagger and moved in closer to stand before the dark elf. "I don't understand."

"Chizrae disappeared during an excursion to Akavir. He needs your help finding her."


	2. Chapter 2: Quest for a Hero and a God

Chapter 2: Quest for a Hero and a God

Inside the renovated Akaviri _minka_, Kielanai sat at the low-level table just below the raised entry and listened as the dark elf across from her introduced himself once more. Elaren had come upon them in the rice paddy and insisted on remaining present while they spoke, but Daerazal had insisted upon privacy. Kielanai compromised by inviting the dark elf to come into her home, and having the mage wait outside of the front door.

"Chizrae received a message from Lord Vivec shortly after giving birth to her son," Daerazal said of the dire situation that had brought him all the way across the continent to the half-Altmer's doorstep.

"Vivec?" Kielanai was quick to catch the name of one of Morrowind's Tribunal self-proclaimed deities. "Why would a 'god' be contacting Talvalo or his wife?"

Daerazal shifted to a more comfortable cross-legged position and rubbed a place on his ribs where his light black armor was pressing into his skin. "Vivec's not a real god."

Kielanai gave a small snort. "Any follower of the Nine could have told you that," she countered with a self-righteous tone.

"Yes, but Chizrae is not a follower of the Nine or the Tribunal. She just happens to be the one who was able to uncover the truth about his secret."

"Secret?"

"How he came to power."

The half-Altmer was confused and tilted her head with doubt. "Did she blackmail him?"

"No." Daerazal hesitated to explain. "Have you heard about the Prophecy of the Nerevarine?"

She smiled with pride. Most people had heard the vague basics of this legend, but any bard worth her weight had read enough lore to know a little more. "Morrowind's Ashlanders say that the great general, Nerevar Indoril, who was killed in the Battle at Red Mountain during the War of the First Council, promised to return someday to destroy the traitor who betrayed him. They also say that at that time, he lead Morrowind to rebel against the Empire. Three years ago, someone claiming to be the Nerevarine did appear and destroy the traitor, Dagoth Ur. But instead of leading Morrowind to rise up against the Empire, people say he went on an excursion to Akavir, and ..." She paused as her brows drew together. An obvious connection lined itself up in front of her. "He hasn't been heard from since. Did Talvalo's wife go with the Nerevarine to Akavir for some reason?"

"Your idea of rebellion against the Empire is called something else by the Ashlanders of Morrowind—_freedom_. Chizrae _is_ the Nerevarine."

The half-elf's lips parted in surprise, and she sank further into the large cushion on which she was seated.

"Chizrae herself never believed in the prophecy. She insists that she isn't Nerevar Indoril, but no one can explain how she managed to pass all the proper tests to fulfill the prophecy unless she is." Daerazal placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward. "When Chizrae didn't return after a while, Talvalo began to suspect something had gone wrong. He tried seeking help from the temples of the Tribunal to find out if they had any word from Vivec, but they were suspiciously tight-lipped about it. Rumors started to spread that he had gone to Aetherius to join the ancestors, but you already know what happened to the other two gods of the Tribunal."

Kielanai's curiosity was truly peaked. This would make a marvelous addition to her hearth tales by the fire in the taverns, the next time she went traveling. She leaned forward with interest. "They mysteriously disappeared."

"They were killed."

The Imperial-raised bard knew that the gods and traitor of the Tribunal had once been the advisers of General Nerevar Indoril. Though she did not believe they were gods, she could not deny their powerful deeds and longevity. One would think that killing such ancient beings would be difficult, if not impossible—the most likely reason why so many people in Morrowind did regard them as gods. "Gods do not die easily ... not even fake gods."

"Both the Tribunal and the traitor drew their immortality from the same source—the heart of a _real_ god. Nerevar had told all of his advisers not to touch it. Dagoth Ur disobeyed, and tapping into its magic is what drove him insane because it was too much power for mortal minds to handle. But when Nerevar was killed, his remaining three advisers tapped into it. as well, to 'try to right Dagoth Ur's wrong,' as the story goes."

"So, that's how they became gods."

"When Chizrae destroyed the god's heart, she destroyed Dagoth Ur, but she also undid the immortality of the gods of the Tribunal. In spite of his loss, Vivec was grateful because all of Morrowind had been suffering from the toxins and monsters coming out of Red Mountain. Soltha Sil was silent on the matter. But Almalexia had already begun to suffer the same insanity as the traitor. Since the _truth_ of the matter was that all four of his advisers had gone against his orders, Almalexia believed that Chizrae was, indeed, Nerevar reincarnated, back for revenge on her as well. So, she lured Chizrae into Clockwork City to kill her."

"But Almalexia was Nerevar's wife, ... wasn't she?" Kielanai was struck by a funny thought and couldn't help but smile. "Maybe she wasn't too keen on her husband coming back to life as a woman."

The dark elf's expression let the bard know that he wasn't impressed by her joke. "Chizrae said that when she arrived, Almalexia had already murdered Soltha Sil. So, Chizrae had no choice, but to use Nerevar's ancient blade to defend herself. Vivec was the only Tribunal god left, but he suspected he would eventually fall prey to the madness as well. He told Chizrae he trusted her to release him from his misery when that time came, but until then he wanted to continue to serve his followers and Morrowind while he still could. The Temple, of course, refused to acknowledge the deaths of any Tribunal gods. They thought Chizrae was the one suffering insanity when she reported it."

"Can you blame them? Not only does it sound surreal to be able to kill a god, but they lose their power in the political arena if their gods are dead."

The dark elf nodded in agreement with her assessment of the situation. "When Chizrae got the summons from Vivec, Talvalo thought that the remaining Tribunal god felt his time had come. But when neither Chizrae nor Vivec returned, he became suspicious about their purpose in leaving. Since the Temple wouldn't help, Talvalo turned to the Noble Houses. But they had too many other worries to lend a hand. The king had mysteriously died just before the deaths of two of the gods. His son Helseth took the crown and formed an alliance between House Hlaalu and House Dres, but then tried to reform the Grand Council and ban slave trade. Houses Indoril and Redoran wouldn't accept the new measures, and civil war has been brewing ever since."

"So, I've heard," she answered with a concerned tone. This was the main news leaking into the other provinces from Morrowind.

"Plus, the Nords of Skyrim have been increasingly bold about attacking House Redoran and Solstheim. With the Great Houses warring against themselves, I think Skyrim feels the time is right to reclaim the island."

"Yes, I heard about that, too. Actually, I've heard the Nords hired Orc mercenaries to help." Again, a thought struck her as funny, though the topic was still a very serious matter. "Can you imagine a towering Nord calling to a towering Orc for help because a little dark elf is whacking at his knees?"

The dark elf sitting across the table from her frowned slightly at what she was implying. "Maybe it's because the dark elves are dancing circles around the Nords and kicking their asses all the way back to Skyrim."

Kielanai gave the young man a sour expression for not being able to see the humor in her comments. But since he had taken it as an insult, like a typical drab-humored dark elf would, she held her tongue and let him continue without interruption.

"Helseth's policies of change were meant to lead the Dunmer of Morrowind to embrace more Imperial standards, but the Ashlanders and traditional Nobles don't want to be more Imperial. Some people think Helseth arranged for the Nords to invade, in hopes that Morrowind would unite with Imperial forces to drive them out; but whether it was planned or not, it's backfiring. Instead of running to the Imperial governors to ask for help fighting Skyrim invaders, traditionalists are getting impatient for the Nerevarine to take the reigns and chase them _all _out—to _finish_ fulfilling the prophecy. So, for Chizrae to disappear at a time like this ... You can see why Talvalo is running out of people he can trust to search for her."

Yes, Kielanai could see that now. "But what role does Akavir play in all of this? Why Akavir?"

"We're not really sure. Why Vivec would summon Chizrae to Akavir for his final dual doesn't make sense. That's why Talvalo suggested we bring the problem to you. He said your father used to help thwart Akaviri pirates trying to enter the southwestern waters of Cyrodiil. Little is known about the eastern continent here on Tamriel, but he said that you spoke the language and knew the customs because your father was Akaviri." He thoughtfully rubbed a knuckle across his lips and lifted his crimson eyes to her in earnest plea. "We realize that asking you to go to Akavir would be a very long and dangerous trip, but we're not asking you to go alone."

The full weight of what he was asking pressed down on her. "He wants me to actually _go_ to Akavir?"

"Talvalo can't accompany you unless he can find someone to care for the baby. I told him I would go in his place."

She saddened remembering the night the Tsaesci pirates invaded their island and slaughtered all inhabitants except for her and the Breton alchemist … remembering the day she paid them back for it.

Daerazal's long journey across Tamriel came down to this moment. "Will you go with me to Morrowind to speak with Talvalo? Would you be willing to travel to Akavir to help us find Chizrae?"

Kielanai bit her lip and gnawed at it with uncertainty as she tried to foresee the possible outcomes of this stranger's request. "I can't."

Daerazal's disappointment was easy to read. "Talvalo doesn't know of anyone else who could communicate with the Tsaesci in Akavir - or at least anyone else that he feels he can trust."

"I can't," she repeated. "I can't just walk away from what I've worked hard for here. If I leave my garden, I won't have any food to get me through winter. If I abandon my animals, they'll die."

"Ask the mage to care for the place. He seems more than capable, judging by his own garden."

"If I don't work at the inns, I won't have money. How can I go anywhere without money?"

"There's lots of ruins scattered across the land. A quick stop inside one of them can sometimes turn up all kinds of surprising things you can trade for good coin, if you can handle fighting a few skeletal guardians or ghosts."

"I have no desire to fight skeletons or ghosts. You have no idea what I had to go through to come back to this island. This place is _finally_ the safe haven it was once meant to be. I am not going to just walk out of here on a _whim _and abandon it for a journey of that caliber."

"Kielanai," he urged with new fervor, "this is _not_ a whim. That baby needs his mother back. Talvalo needs his wife. Morrowind needs its Nerevarine. If the Nerevarine isn't around to hold them back, the Ashlander tribes will join the traditional houses and declare war against King Helseth and the progressive houses. The traditional houses will win, and then the province will declare war against the Empire to fight for Morrowind's independence—with or without the Nerevarine to lead the way. And if one province declares war on the Empire, then others may follow suit. With no emperor on the throne, who will stop them? How safe will your island home be when the Empire falls to ruin around it?"

"But there _is_ an heir to the throne," she whispered in defiance of his attempt to persuade her.

Daerazal's eyes narrowed with doubt.

"An illegitimate son was hidden away at a monastery. He is the last remaining heir to the Septim throne. He lives, and he is in a safe location waiting to claim it. I've met him, and he truly seems to be a person of integrity—someone who could clean up this mess with Morrowind and Helseth. All he needs is the proof of his birthright restored to him, and he will be able to put the chaos in the Empire to rest."

"How do you know -"

"I just know it," she snapped with a frown, cutting off any further questions.

"Then you will sit back and do nothing, knowing you could have made a difference?"

"If all you need is a translator, I would be willing to help, but you're asking me to cross the ocean to the land of the people that enslaved, hunted, and killed my family! I'm saddened to hear what's happened to Talvalo and his wife, and I'm saddened to hear what's happening to Morrowind. But stop trying to make me feel guilty about something that isn't my fault! I won't go!" Her hand slammed down on the table, and she rose to her feet.

The front door opened and Elaren the mage stepped in, setting the end of his staff audibly down on the wooden floor of the raised entrance area. It was a warning to the dark elf to remember his pledge that he would not be hostile.

Daerazal sighed impatiently and rubbed his face in his hands to try to think of something else he could say that might make a difference in her decision. "I'll pay for your expenses."

"No."

"I'll personally escort you there and back."

"No!" She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.

Daerazal decided to make her an offer she couldn't refuse. "I'll help you hunt down the Akaviri bastards that killed your family." This time, his offer silenced her for a moment.

Kielanai approached the seated stranger with new suspicion. "Sounds a little more personal now than it did five minutes ago. Where do you fit into this dilemma ... if in fact _any_ of what you say is true?"

"Chizrae's my sister," Daerazal admitted, "and she's the only family I have left."

_Talvalo married a dark elf? _Somehow that seemed more shocking than hearing the news that he had married the Nerevarine. On rare occasion an elf would cast away her heritage to marry a human, such as the case of her own parents, but elven races _never_ intermingled their own pure bloodlines with each other. They were all too proud of who they were.

Kielanai knew nothing of Ashland Dunmer and had assumed they were just like any other Dunmer, except that they shunned Imperial rule and society. But this dark elf's crimson eyes were brighter. His ashen skin was darker. And his incandescent hair was completely void of all typical Dunmer colors. As she glanced over his small, but compact, frame trying to imagine what Talvalo's attraction to a female dark elf could have been, she realized that perhaps she was thinking of the wrong kind of attraction. If this young man had come all the way to Anvil from the dangerous wastelands beneath the lava flows around Red Mountain, then he must have had strength enough to fight all kinds of dangerous beasts in hellish environmental conditions. If Chizrae was anything like Daerazal, perhaps Talvalo saw her aptitude as a god-send for Morrowind, in disguise. But then why would Talvalo turn his back on his homeland for the sake of a wasteland like Morrowind?

"_With no emperor on the throne, who will stop them? How safe will your island home be when the Empire falls to ruin around it? ... You will sit back and do nothing, knowing you could have made a difference?"_

Kielanai glanced toward Elaren, who still stood quietly near the door, holding his staff of lightning in one hand and the stranger's surrendered weapons in the other. Like most of the citizens of Cyrodiil, he was aware of the political disdain that Ashlanders felt about "Outlander" presence in Morrowind. He seemed to question the stranger's motives, now that he knew it involved a journey to two places known to be a thorn in the Empire's side. And she knew that if this stranger hinted in any way that he was an enemy of the Empire, the Altmer mage would probably strike him dead on the spot and ask questions later. Kielanai wasn't sure this dark elf deserved that kind of judgment. After all, he did seem concerned about what would happen to the unity of Tamriel if Morrowind were to fall.

"I have already avenged the deaths of my family," she confessed. "But I might need help with something else. If you will agree to help me fulfill an important promise, I will agree to go to Morrowind with you. I will not, however, agree to go to Akavir—not until I've spoken to Talvalo."

Daerazal was cautious. "What promise?"

"I promised to recover a stolen item for someone—an amulet."

"Consider it done."

Kielanai still felt anxious about the arrangement, but she knew it was the right thing to do for the Empire, no matter how much the idea of getting involved in this sort of thing frightened her. Giving in, she offered a hand to shake on their agreement.

Daerazal accepted, placing his hand in hers and sealing the deal with a firm grip.

Elaren couldn't contain his silence any longer. "A journey to Akavir ... Are you sure that's wise?"

"We have a mutual friend and a mutual need, Elaren. I travel all the time to gather news and earn my living; it's just a longer trip than usual, so I might need help to get there safely and back this time."

Elaren thought she sounded as if she was trying to convince herself as much as him. "I doubt that anyone from Cyrodiil would be 'safe' taking a road trip to Morrowind with an Ashlander."

"It's an odd position for an Ashlander, I know, but I suppose it's a testimony to his dedication to find his sister that he's made it this far. I have to give him credit for putting loyalty to his loved ones above politics."

"But surely you're aware that Akavir has tried many times to invade Tamriel," Elaren persisted. "There are no elves there, and humans were kept as slaves. The Tsaesci supposedly ate them all. How can you call that safe?"

Kielanai crossed the mat-covered floor, up the steps to the raised entrance, and stopped before the mage. "Elaren, may I leave my island in your care during my absence?"

"Certainly. But -"

"We'll stop by your place in Anvil to give you the key before we leave."

Daerazal rose to his feet and moved to stand behind Kielanai. "I can send word by courier at each major stop along the way, so that you know how things are going, if you like."

"I _don't_ like. I don't like it one bit." Elaren looked to Kielanai once more, but then sighed to himself and put away his magical staff. "But … I suppose you'll be needing these." He offered the dark elf his weapons and travel pack once more.

Daerazal accepted them back with a nod of gratitude and turned to face Kielanai as he strapped his sword back around his hips. "You should make preparations right away," he suggested. "I can help, or I can wait in Anvil at an inn until you're ready to go."

"I have a spare room in my servant's quarters," the mage reluctantly offered to the fighter. "You can stay with me tonight—saves a few coins for later."

"_Or_, I have a spare room and futon here, too." Kielanai tried to be cheerful, now that she had agreed to it. "We're going to be traveling together—might as well have fun with chores to prepare for it. Let me change into something more suitable for shopping, and we'll all go back to Anvil with you, Elaren. There's a lot of things we're going to need to buy before we leave." The bard finger-swept her silver hair behind her small, pointed ear and hurried through the open _fusuma_, down the stairs to the house's lower level, where she slid the bedroom door shut behind her.

)(

Daerazal reached over his shoulder to unbuckle his cuirass. He was grateful to get out of it and trade it for normal clothing at last, but … "Chores? Fun?" He looked to the Altmer mage as if hoping for a clue about what she might have in mind.

Elaren chuckled to himself with a sense of self-satisfaction at the wary expression on the dark elf's face. "Kielanai's a light-hearted lass with an endless supply of energy. I have no doubt that she will find some _fun_ chores for you to do tomorrow, Ashlander." He turned to pull open the door and wait for them outside once more.

"_Daerazal_," he repeated his name, hinting that he preferred it.

"Whatever," the mage waved a hand of no concern and let himself out into the sun to prepare another water walking spell.

The dark elf sighed to himself and sat down to finish removing his black and silver light armor. He felt like punching the next person that called him an Ashlander. He was not an Ashlander, or even a Dunmer for that matter. He was Drow. And in the world where he came from, this cooperation between dark elf and light elf would have _never_ happened. His sister's foolish love for a light elf had led to this trouble, in spite of the fact that both of them grew up killing light elves on sight in the name of their goddess Lloth. But both of them had been through so much since then. Both of them had changed.

He was willing to tolerate Talvalo. And now he would have to tolerate this Kielanai. Let them believe whatever they want about his origins, as long as they could help find his sister and bring her home. But cross him, and they would all find out very quickly why Drow were the mortal enemies of their lighter skinned cousins in his own world.

)(

Daerazal and Kielanai took her skiff back to the Anvil docks, while Elaren walked on the water alongside them. The mage chided the fighter, in a nondescript manner, for having a fear of water, fear of magic, or both. Daerazal ignored the Altmer mage's talk by telling Kielanai what things he needed to do or purchase while in the city while he rowed the skiff for her. Kielanai recorded their plans in a small blank book that rested in her lap. She had decided it would be perfect for recording any necessary information or events along their journey.

As soon as the small boat was secured on the sand at the Anvil docks, Kielanai divided the list in half, escorted Daerazal into the fortressed city, and pointed out the places he would need to visit, agreeing to meet back at the docks when they were done.

Daerazal had collected all the armor and weapons they thought they would need and took them to the smith to make sure they were in good repair. It was a lot of weight to carry, but the dark elven fighter had a special bag with a feather spell cast on it that allowed him to carry more than three times his normal load. After having the weapons checked first, he took them to the Mage Guild to have their magic recharged while the armor was being worked on. Then, he purchased soul gems for recharging them himself on their long journey back to Morrowind.

Kielanai went to the tavern on the docks to purchase travel foods, but while she was there, she sang a few songs about the coming of spring to brighten smiles of the lunch-time crowd as they came in for the evening. After she received a handful of septims for her bardic lore, she left for the inn along the main road to purchase drinks. There she stayed long enough to perform a few dances. Walking out with more coin in her pocket than she had spent, she then went to the Mage Guild to buy alchemical supplies and a few potions.

Daerazal had already left the building to go back to the armor shop by the time she arrived, so she didn't meet up with him again until she returned to the docks around dinner time.

She found him sitting on the boardwalk with one arm resting on one knee ... the other leg dangling over the water. He was making sure a soul crystal he had was enough charge to suit his sword. The bard smiled at the spectacle that he was to this region, though he didn't seem to notice or care—skin like a raven's wing, hair like new snow, and those strange little tinted lenses on the bridge of his nose. She walked around him to stand at the end of the dock. Facing him, she rubbed the evening chill from her golden arms. "Ready to go home?"

"I think one of these crystals is a dud."

"Want to go get your money back? I'm a member of the Mage Guild, and I'm friends with the alchemist in the hall here."

"Nah, I'll just use it in my dagger instead. Probably a rat soul rather than anything worth while," he muttered as he put the crystal in his pocket and stood. Collecting his bag, he followed her back to the skiff and then they rowed back to Akaviri Kojima.

)(

Kielanai showed him the spare room, which happened to be a small armory and craft room, and packed their travel rations. Shortly after that, she excused herself to go get a tent from one of the crates in the stable. But after an hour, when she didn't return with it, Daerazal began to wonder if some kind of predator had found her. Grabbing his sandals, the dark elf stepped outside.

"Kielanai?" he called as his crimson eyes adjusted to the comfort of the darkness. It was a cloudy night, but he had no trouble seeing anything in his surroundings, not even in the shadows. "She's already missing and we haven't even hit the road yet," he muttered as he began his search around the island.

First, he went to the stable where she said she would be, but there was no trace of her or a tent. He walked around the stable, down to the rice paddy, across the dock to the ship, and then to the garden and bridge in the back yard. He even knocked on the door of the bath house behind the farm house. There was no sign of her. Then, his gaze went to the trees on the hill where he could see fires blazing in the dragon lamps of the main estate.

Following a hunch, he jogged up the inclining path to the large building and glanced up at the guardian dragons looking down on him. They seemed to be giving him warning just as the Altmer mage had, but he shrugged it off and approached the steps. One of the large front doors was cracked and a light from within streamed over the pavement under his feet.

Daerazal approached the open door with caution. "Hello?" he lightly called, rapping a knuckle against the thick, old wood before entering.

His attention went from the blue marble columns, rush mats, and red tapestry rugs on the floor to the rows of swords hanging from the pillars and arches under the blue, dragon-painted ceiling of the formal entrance hall. Large stained-wood drums with unfamiliar script and ebony display cases lined the walls beneath tapestries of colorful warriors and strange demons. The room held a sense of exotic mystery … relics from a land more alien to him than even Morrowind and Cyrodiil.

The two far corners of the room had been partitioned off from the rest of the large, open hall with paper-and-wood-latticed sliding doors similar to the ones in the farmhouse. Those had been painted with cherry blossoms.

He could see that one of the _shoji_ partitions had been opened. Keeping one hand on the hilt of his sword, the Drow fighter crossed the grand hall toward the open partition. Inside, he found the silver-haired bard seated on her ankles on a large black and red silk cushion facing a large shelf, of sorts. She was facing a delicate porcelain bowl with an incense stick in it and staring at a portrait near an urn on the shelf.

"Did you remove your shoes?" she asked, without turning to look at him.

The dark elf was a master of stealth, so the fact that she knew he was behind her was mildly annoying. He looked down at his sandals and sand-covered toes. He started to advance before speaking to her.

"No." Her tone was firm. She still wasn't looking. "Have some respect. Leave your shoes at the door."

Biting back the urge to say something snarky in return, the fighter sheathed his sword and removed his sandals. _Great_, he thought to himself, _I'm going to be traveling with a reincarnation of my mother._


	3. Chapter 3: The Pirate's Daughter

Chapter 3: The Pirate's Daughter

"You could have told me you were coming here. I thought a predator had found you," Daerazal told Kielanai as he entered the shrine area of the great hall, now that he was properly shoeless.

"The only predator on this island is Mouzer, my baby cougar. And he's too young to be of any concern. He was injured badly when his mother and siblings were killed by a pack of wolves. A hunter friend of mine took him to Gwenyth for healing before releasing him back into the wild, but she told him, 'It's not a fair to take the pelt of a baby.'" The bard imitated a Breton woman's voice, as if she were acting out one of her tales, but then slipped back into her natural tone. "My human mother nurtured the cub back to health with her potions, just like she did when she took me in. But I didn't think Mouzer could hunt for himself being so little and helpless ... so I chose to keep him."

"Well, he'll have lots of fresh meat at his disposal if you keep him here—deer, sheep, a horse ... you."

"Yes, I know I'll eventually need to think about that."

"Good thing you warned me, or I might have taken him down without knowing he was a pet."

"You would kill a helpless child? That's what he is, you know—a child."

The Drow couldn't make out the details in the small painting near the urn, other than the subject was an older woman, but he guessed it was the remains of her mother, based on the way the Dunmer of Morrowind kept the ashes of their ancestors in burial tomb jars. "Just like you were a child when the pirates killed your parents?"

"Talvalo seems to have told you all about me." Kielanai closed her eyes and whispered a soft prayer to the burial urn before bowing her head to the floor for a few second. Then, rising to her feet, she turned to face the dark elf behind her. "We should go back to the other house and finish packing. The earlier we start tomorrow, the more we can accomplish."

Daerazal nodded, picked up his sandals, and looked again at the ornately painted dragons on the blue ceiling and all the swords hanging around the rafters. "This is nicer than the other house. Why don't you live in this one instead? Or is it a temple of some kind?"

"It's too big for one person, but it once served as a temple, a formal meeting hall, and a home before it was turned into a thieves' den," she told him as she slid the _shoji fusuma_ shut behind him and walked barefoot back across the large _tatami_ mats covering the blue and white marble floor.

"You are probably aware of the fact that not many humans are left in Akavir since the dynasty of the vampire snakes started. In Tamriel, many believe Akaviri humans are already extinct because there are Imperial documents stating that men were devoured by the Tsaesci. But that is a mistranslation. There are many ways one nation can devour another. In some cases, yes, it is by physical consumption. The Tsaesci are vampires, after all, and they kept human cattle for feeding upon. But they made slaves of whatever humans they chose not to consume, and even mated with some of them, according to my grandfather. So, among the Tsaesci there are the original snake-men, and there are men who look like snakes. But there were also humans hiding in the wilderness, struggling to survive … or escape.

"My grandfather, my grandmother, their children, and some of their friends escaped Akavir on a pirate ship, which brought them to Cyrodiil. They thought the pirates were going to drop them off, and they would be free. But after arriving, the pirates stayed. They decided to use this island as a base to raid Imperial ships, and with the entire shipload of passengers held as hostages, my grandfather had little choice but to comply. My family built everything on this island with the intent of founding an Akaviri village for refugees, but it was destined to be under Tsaesci rule, just like back in Akavir. Nothing had changed, but a lesson was learned—never trust a Tsaesci, especially if he offers to be your friend."

Daerazal looked to the strange, large drums, lacquered furniture, and brush painted scrolls hanging on the walls.

"Eventually, my grandfather was sent on an errand for the pirates, but he went to the Emperor, instead. The Emperor was grateful to hear of the pirates' plot and asked my grandfather to continue to spying on them for the sake of the Empire. My grandfather agreed to be a pirate among pirates. My father and uncles grew up following the same path. The Emperor was very generous with his rewards, even made them honorary members of the Blades."

As they walked, she gestured to the ebony display cases lining the walls that contained old weapons and armor of that elite command. "This is the hall where the pirates conducted business, not knowing everything they said was being reported to the Emperor by one of his Blades." Kielanai stopped at the ebony bench before the heavy wooden doors at the hall's entrance.

Daerazal sat down to put his sandals back on.

From the lattice wood-worked shoe cabinet, Kielanai removed her own sandals and the tent she had originally leftto fetch. "When my father married my mother, he built the _minka_ at the other end of the island. That is the house I was born in. My mother ran an alchemy business in the front of it, and often sold her ingredients and potions to various shops in Anvil. Usually, we had to keep people away from the island and maintain a reputation as pirates, but one day my mother gave a rare invitation to a Breton woman in the Mage Guild. She wanted to collect some bamboo and ginko seeds from the garden."

The bard sat down next to the dark elf to put her own sandals on. "That was also the day that the pirates found out who was trading their secrets. They came back to the island and slaughtered everyone ... in _this_ building—everyone except me and the Breton alchemist."

Resting his elbows on his knees, Daerazal interlaced his fingers and waited for her to finish, but lifted his chin to let her know he was still listening.

Kielanai stood and picked up the rolled tent in her arms before facing him to finish her story. "Gwenyth's little boat capsized during our escape. She said we were both nearly drowned. I don't really remember. But when my mother didn't come for me like she said she would, Gwenyth told me they probably had not survived the raid. She took me to Weye and raised me there. That's where I met Talvalo. He's originally from Imperial City, you know? But that's how he came to know about what happened to my parents … and me."

"He said I'd find you in Weye at the home of a Breton alchemist. He told me Tsaesci pirates killed your parents, but he didn't say much about the details." Daerazal rose and walked with her to the massive front doors. Holding one open for her, he pulled it shut behind them as they exited together. Night on the isolated little island was cloaked in a thick veil of mist—silent, still, and very dark.

"I thought I'd never see Akaviri Kojima again. I didn't know how to find my way back because the island is supposed to be shrouded with magical fog that hides it from passing ships. But I lucked out a couple of months ago when I tricked the pirates into bringing me back with them. They had let things run down, occupying the island by themselves. It's been a huge effort trying to restore the village all by myself. It feels more like a ghost town most days. But I'm grateful that the important artifacts from Akavir were unharmed."

"You're doing this alone? You know carpentry and masonry?"

She smiled trying to imagine herself with such skills. "No, but I'm doing what I can until I can find the right kind of people to help finish it. And it doesn't hurt that I know a little magic."

"Ah." The Drow had also watched his entire family's violent demise, so he could relate to what it felt like to be a survivor in some sense. But their backgrounds couldn't have been more opposite, so he dare not relate his own experience to her. The less that he said about himself, the better. "Talvalo said that there are quite a few people in Tamriel who proudly claim Akaviri descent, but finding someone in Tamriel who knows enough about the language and culture to make use of it would be difficult. He said there were rumors of pockets of Akaviri humans throughout Tamriel because of the refugee situation, but that it would be easier to hunt down a childhood friend than a rumor."

"The only other Akaviri humans I know of in Tamriel are ghosts. The countess of Bruma recently hired an explorer from Skyrim to find the Akaviri stronghold at Pale Pass. Humanoid remains were found there, but little else. Many of Tamriel's sources about Akavir are doubtful because of anonymous authors or translation problems. But in the time of my grandparents, there were still humans in Akavir. If _they_ managed to avoid being enslaved or eaten by hiding and fleeing to Tamriel, I'm sure there are a handful of others who managed it as well." Rubbing the chill from her arms, she stopped at the farm house's front door to let them inside. "It's going to be difficult to leave Kojima, now that I've finally found it again."

Daerazal followed her in and squinted at the fires burning in the dragon lamps. His eyes took a moment to readjust from walking in darkness, but he watched the Akaviri-Altmer walk past him to place the tent among the stacks of other items that were destined to be packed for the excursion. "I'll do what I can to make sure you come back," he felt compelled to assure her.

Kielanai looked up from her task with a somber nod. "Thank you."

))((

The next day, Kielanai and Daerazal did any manual labor around the island that was necessary to prepare it for her long absence. With summer on the horizon, it was the first really hot day of the year, but they still had to pull weeds in the garden, the field, the rice paddy, and all the flower beds. After irrigating the soil, they had to spread bone meal and salts over seedlings. Kielanai planted the last of her starter seeds in hopes that Elaren would be able to see them through the season, while Daerazal cut the long grass near the houses and paths down to size with a scythe. Finally, Kielanai did one last cleaning in both houses, while Daerazal checked the shodding on her horse and harvested any fruit that was about to ripen in the orchard behind the main house. By sunset they were both exhausted.

The Drow removed his Dwemer sun shades that had protected his eyes from the brightness of the sun all day and dried the sweat from his face in his discarded shirt. He started to pick up the meager basket of small fruit and head back to the farm house, when he noticed movement along the beach in the corner of his eye. Kielanai was strolling along the sandy shore among the reeds and multicolored flower bushes of the garden until she came to the bench under a large ginko tree near a small waterfall. Sitting down and facing the hazy sun as it settled lower between the sea and the sky, she seemed to be watching something he couldn't see. She seemed sad again, just like the night before when he found her with the urn in the grand hall.

Sighing to himself at how sentimental these surface elves could be, he took his basket across the distance to where she sat. _Weakness ..._ he scolded himself out of habit, for giving in to it. He didn't know what to say to her, so he set down his basket and folded his arms at his chest, waiting for his shadow to draw her attention away from the distant waves.

Kielanai looked up at his obsidian silhouette against the apricot sunset to see why he had joined her.

He tried not to sound annoyed. "Talvalo and I wouldn't be asking you to do this if it wasn't important."

She smiled in acceptance and agreement. "I know."

The smile disarmed him. He wasn't expecting it considering how mellow her mood seemed from a distance. "Then ... you're okay?"

She laughed lightly at his attempt to appear concerned, but turned her attention out to sea once more. "I was just wondering if it would be easier to sail my ship to Akavir from here. The eastern continent is approachable from the west, you know ... since the world is round. And I think I could navigate it, as long as I have a good star map. I'm the daughter of a pirate. I've got sailing in my blood."

"We can't go straight to Akavir. You said you wanted to speak with Talvalo in Morrowind first."

She squinted back up at him. "That's why I was _wondering_, instead of planning. There's no good way to get to Morrowind by ship without going around the entire continent."

"You could sail us as far as Bravil and then up the northeast river. We could take silt striders from there. That's how I came here."

"Silt what?"

"They're big … fleas." He shrugged at not being able to think of a better way to describe them. "They're giant insects with shells have been hulled out so that drivers can manipulate their internal organs and make them walk across the land. They're big enough that they can cut travel time in half."

Kielanai made a face. "Morrowind sounds like such an alien place," she muttered. "Giant fleas, explosive mountains, fake gods, diseased walking corpses … I can't believe I agreed to this trip." She shook her head. "No, I don't want to abandon my ship not knowing when I'd return. Same goes for my horse. This journey will need to be done on my own two legs. I often travel the main roads through Cyrodiil on horseback, so I know them well. It's just that ... well ... sometimes wild animals and bandits lie in wait for travelers slow enough to snare. I think you should know that in spite of what I told you yesterday, I'm not a very good fighter," she reluctantly admitted. "I do know how to handle a small axe or blade, but I'm much better at talking my way out of a fix."

"Unless whatever's attacking you doesn't speak." The dark elf sat down beside her to try to admire the fading light of the sunset seascape. He allowed his eyes to shift into their more natural dark vision as a blue-glowing fire-fly buzzed out of the azalea bush next to the bench. The breeze coming off of the tide whispered gently through the leaves, nearly lulling him to sleep after the long, tiring day. He could see why she didn't want to leave this place. There was no denying it was peaceful. "Well, I gave you my word I'd bring you back."

Kielanai laughed lightly. "Well, _that_ should keep the wild animals and bandits at bay. Listen up, you brutes!" she called across the ocean to the east. "_No attacking_ us on this journey! I have an Ashlander knight who must keep to his code! You must not prevent this man from keeping his word, okay?" She cupped a hand to ear, as if hearing a response. "I don't think they listened. I think they're saying vile things about what you can do with your code."

Daerazal allowed himself a small smirk. Everyone assumed he was Ashlander. Few assumed he was a knight. Ironically, she was partially right.

"Ah, so you _do_ know how to smile." She was pleased to see that he was amused at her joke this time.

"If that's how you talk your way out of danger, I can see why Talvalo thought you'd need to travel with a mercenary's blade."

"Talvalo's one to talk. He couldn't roast a chicken in a pot, much less hit one with a fireball spell."

"Oh, that's good. I'll have to remember that line the next time he brags about his magic," he quipped, then closed his eyes to enjoy the cooler air coming off of the water.

The half-elf chuckled. "Talvalo always preferred dreaming of adventure to practicing magic. So, it shouldn't surprise me he's in Morrowind now. What's it like where you're from?"

Daerazal opened his eyes and tried to think of a good answer. _Menzoberranzan … I come from a place of darkness—caverns deep within the ground. There is no sun. There are no stars. There are only predators, things anxious to drink your blood before you drink theirs. _"Morrowind ..." He drew a sigh and tried to think of a good way to describe it, instead of his real origins. "Swamps ... forests ... grasslands ... mountains ... same stuff you have here but more gray and rocky overall."

Her aqua-colored eyes met his with worry. "I've heard rivers of molten lava flow from Red Mountain, carving deep ravines into the land, like in the plane of Oblivion itself."

"I've never been to Red Mountain ... but yeah, there's a lot of lava pits and barren land destroyed by lava. That stuff's mostly northern shore, though."

"Where does Talvalo live?"

"Seyda Neen—on a fortressed island. So, you have something in common still."

"How is he? Other than this ordeal, I mean?"

"He's doing okay. Baby keeps him up at night, so he thinks up new ways to complain about that almost daily."

Kielanai smiled and rested both hands on the edge of the bench. "I can imagine. I'm amazed he's well-off enough to own a fortressed island. He comes from money, but he used to gamble away every coin he got his fingers on. Then again ... he's Talvalo. The man has a talent for being able to sweet talk his way into, or out of, anything."

The Drow's snow white brow lifted in suspicion. "Former lovers, I take it?"

"No! Good heavens, no." She waved both hands with emphatic denial. "We studied under the same tutor growing up in Imperial City. Talvalo was a lazy lout with a silver tongue and had all kinds of girls lined up after him. I'm shocked he settled down at all. Is he a bard now by any chance? He used to love telling stories as much as I did. Used to get in trouble for it quite frequently, actually."

"He's a battlemage now."

Kielanai blinked as if waiting for the punchline. "You're _kidding_. He was _horrible_ at magic."

The Drow was pleased to hear that. It was definite leverage against his brother-in-law in the future. "Well, he's actually quite good at a few spells now. Said he fine-tuned his skills in Solstheim."

Kielanai looked back to the sea. "Oh ... right. He told me about Solstheim."

Daerazal couldn't help but wonder _exactly what_ Talvalo had told her about Solstheim. He knew all too well that Talvalo had a closet full of skeletons. The dark elf decided not to press his luck by discussing it with her for fear of frightening her away. Plenty of time for Talvalo to explain himself once they reached Morrowind.

"Your sister must be a remarkable person to be able to stick with him. Are you sure she didn't just run away?" she lightly proposed and looked back to the dark elf.

"Chizrae has never run away from anything in her life ... except me."

"_You_?" The half-elf was amused. "Were you mean to her as a child?"

The warrior snorted. "Are you kidding? She used to beat me to bloody pulp, chastise me for not fighting back, and then beat me some more."

Kielanai laughed thinking he was joking.

He wasn't. "Nah, she used to run from me because I represent something much worse than sibling rivalry. I represent her past."

"Well, I guess that explains how she was able to get Talvalo to settle down, then." Kielanai stood and straightened her short pink top. "Shall we have one last meal before we finish packing?"

"You mean we're finally done with all the _fun_ things you had lined up?" Daerazal stood and bent over to lift the basket, when something shot out of the tall grass behind a tree and snagged the ankle of his pants, holding fast with sharp teeth.

"_Iblith! Vel'bol l' uoi'nota zhah nindel?"_ the dark elf cursed in his native tongue and dropped the basket to draw his sword. Reaching down, he grabbed the scruff of the critter's furry neck and pried the fangs out of his leg to hold up ... a baby wildcat. "Mouzer, I presume?"

The cat stopped snarling and growling to lick its lips and meet the Drow's glare with a quiet, innocence.

"There you are!" Kielanai captured the baby mountain lion in her arms, kissed the top of his soft, tan head, and gave him a big snuggle. "We have an intruder, don't we? Good boy! You pounced really sneaky that time!"

Daerazal sheathed his sword. "My sister has wolves, and you have a wild cat. What ever happened to simple pets like … goblins or kobolds," he muttered, lifting the basket once more and following her back to the farm house.

))((

Early the next morning, Kielanai and Daerazal rose and donned their light leather armors. They packed their spare heavy armor, alternate weapons, food, clothes, and other travel supplies into their enchanted packs. Kielanai placed a journal and a letter with care instructions on the table in the front of her farm house. Then, after taking one last look at her home, she stepped outside and locked the door.

Daerazal followed her to the stables where she bid each of the sheep farewell. She paused at old Mirabel's side and hugged the horse's neck for a long moment, turning her head to hide her tears from her new travel companion before bidding goodbye to her old one. Then, she looked for her cat, but soon gave up, knowing he must have been practicing his prowling somewhere. Marching to the shore without looking back, she climbed into her skiff.

The dark elf said nothing as they rowed to Anvil and made their way over the brick-laid streets to Elaren Phaeras's manor near the mermaid pond. Kielanai gave him the key to her house, and then gave him a hug for offering to help. "I've written a letter to a friend that I think might be able to help you take care of Akaviri Kojima." She passed a sealed scroll to the mage. "Have a messenger deliver this, and my friend can reside in the home so that you won't have to check on it so often."

The Altmer mage nodded with a measure of sadness. "We will miss you around here. Please take care."

"None of that," she reprimanded him, holding up her finger. "This is a chance of a lifetime to go to a place I've never been. Surely something good will come of it." She thought of the Emperor and his missing amulet. "At least ... one good thing should come of it," she softly added. Then, giving the mage one final hug, she turned and walked away before she lost her courage to do so.

As they left the city gates, the road unfurled before them like a gray ribbon. The sky was clear, blue, and full of birdsong. The sun was warm, and it couldn't have been a more perfect day for a walk.

Daerazal reached for his Dwemer sun shades and positioned them on the bridge of his nose, ready to face a full day of bright sunlight.

Their initial progress was good, even as the incline of the road began to increase. Kielanai, however, quickly became bored with the silence of the dark elf who walked just a few feet behind her. "Apples or oranges?" she finally broke down and asked.

Daerazal had been preoccupied with scanning the sides of the road. "For what?"

"Do you prefer apples, or oranges?"

He shrugged. "Oranges, I guess. Why?"

"Neither of us knows each other very well, and we're going to have to spend quite a bit of time together walking, so I thought it might be good to sort of break the ice. Asking little questions is a good ice breaker. I happen to prefer apples. Now you ask a question."

"Is this a game of some kind?"

"We could turn it into one, if you like. We can guess the answers first. Ask me a question, but then try to guess the answer."

The Drow turned his mirrored Dwemer shades toward her with a flat expression.

Kielanai recognized the stubborn resistance for what it was worth, but smiled to herself as she slowed to keep pace beside him. "Alright then, I'll go first. Favorite dessert. Let's see ... It's difficult to make you smile, but you seem to be rather loyal to your purpose. That means it's probably something sticky. Honey buns?"

"No."

"Brownies?"

"No."

"Chewy toffees."

He gave her a stumped side glance, having no idea what that was, but then shook his head.

"You've never had a chewy toffee? Alright then, I give up. What's your favorite dessert?"

"Comberry pie," he reluctantly answered.

Kielanai blinked at the unfamiliar dish. "Is that like a ..."

"It's sweet and sour, made from Morrowind comberries."

"Hm, this is going to be trickier than I thought if you pull stuff out of your hat like that. I will use Akaviri answers on you, if you don't play fair. Okay, you won that round. Now you try to guess for me."

Daerazal gave a resigned sigh. "You prefer wine over beer."

Kielanai chuckled—more at his reluctant mannerism than his answer. "Took you a whole second to come up with that one, ne? That's not even a dessert."

A faint whiff of smoke caught Daerazal's attention and he stopped walking to try to discern where it was coming from. "Do you smell that?"

As soon as he said it, she could also smell the smoke on the breeze. "There's an inn up the road from here. If it's on fire, we should see if they need help putting it out." Kielanai bounded up the hill ahead of him, but then stopped running as suddenly as she had started. Black smoke rose from trees along the roadside blazing slightly beyond her view, and the sky began to darken with a strange red glow. This was not an inn on fire. She knew all too well what this was ... and it terrified her. "Oh no ... Oh gods, no ..." Drawing her sword, she nervously scanned the area.

Daerazal came to a stop behind her. "Forest fire?"

Kielanai could feel herself beginning to panic. "Oblivion Gate."


	4. Chapter 4: The Bard and the Warrior

Chapter 4: The Bard and the Warrior

Kielanai stared at the Oblivion gate like a rabbit caught in a hawk's gaze. "I thought those things popped up only in the wilderness. This wasn't here when I came from Kvatch."

Daerazal recalled the Altmer mage asking him about that when he first arrived in Anvil. He didn't fully understand what was going on with these gates, but he drew his sword, to back up her caution.

"We need to run past it! We need to warn the people at the inn! Don't stop running until the sky turns blue again, okay?"

_Run?_ The only thing that typically prompted a Drow to run from a fight was the possibility of framing someone else as a scapegoat, but that philosophy would accomplish nothing under these circumstances. "If something threatening is coming out of that gate, we should take it down before it has the chance to get through," the dark elf disagreed.

"The only way to destroy an Oblivion gate is to go through it yourself and find the source of its power!If you want to make it to Morrowind, you will stay away from those gates! Do you hear me?" Kielanai faced his skepticism with a pleading expression.

Daerazal's answer was to ignore her plea and jog ahead to get a look at this thing. Thunder rolled across the darkening red sky with black, ominous clouds. And as Daerazal came closer to the location of the gate, he could clearly see the talon-like claws holding the gnarled, smoldering portal that blazed with an unholy flame. It was a short distance from the road, just a little down the hillside below them. He saw no demons swarming from the thing as the mage had described.

On the road below, he saw Kielanai sprinting ahead, determined to make it past the thing in one piece.

Seeing the bard's flight, Daerazal had no choice but to join her in it. His goal was to get her to Morrowind, and then on to Akavir. The mysterious portals from another world were a secondary priority. Even if he had to agree with her that they radiated a feeling of doom.

Both of them ran until the sky turned blue once more. They kept on running until they reached the inn down the road. Breathless, they pushed their way into the front door and looked around to see if anyone else was present.

When Kielanai saw the barkeep, she headed straight to the bar and leaned into the man's face. "You must leave this place. An Oblivion Gate has opened just down the road from here."

The man's eyes widened in surprise and fear. "Are you serious? On this road? I thought—"

"Forget what you thought and go pack your things. We can escort you down the rest of the road toward Kvatch if you like."

"But ... didn't Kvatch have a gate there, too?"

"Yes, but it's closed now. Kvatch is safer than here."

The barkeep weighed his options. "Any Daedra come out of that gate?"

"No, but ..."

"Then I'm staying. This is my home and my business. Guards regularly patrol the area. It's their job to keep things under control."

"Someone else's job … Those daedra throw around magical fire and lightning. Even with legion patrols, do you honestly think your inn stands a chance against that if they come this way?"

The owner of the inn frowned at her tone. "If I leave I lose business, and there won't be a safe place for travelers like yourselves to escape them. Now, are you done trying to evict me, or is there something you'd like for lunch?"

"What have you got?" Daerazal asked.

Kielanai flashed him a look of disbelief. "How can you eat at a time like this?"

"I have some roast venison with leeks and a touch of garlic," the barkeep answered, glad to see that the dark elf was being more rational than his companion.

"Serve it up with a loaf of bread, and you've got a deal." Daerazal counted out his septims and placed what he thought would cover it on the counter.

The Akaviri-Altmer groaned to herself and walked away in frustration to sit down at a table.

Daerazal held up two fingers to indicate that his companion would have a serving, too, whether she wanted it or not. When the tray with the plates and bread was prepared and handed to him, he carried it to the table the gold elf had chosen and placed it between them. "So ... what's the deal with these gates, and what do they have to do with the Emperor's death and dragon fires?"

Fist in cheek, the gold elf unhappily pulled her plate toward herself and took up her fork to poke at her leeks. "Have you ever read _Trials of St. Alessia_?"

He was about to ask who St. Alessia was, but something about her expression made him realize that being illiterate in Imperial lore was probably better than being ignorant of it.

Kielanai took that as a _no_ and sighed. "A long time ago, the dragon god, Akatosh, made a covenant with St. Alessia. As long as her heirs wear the symbol of their covenant, his Dragon Fires will burn to protect the Empire from the Daedric Princes of Oblivion. When the Emperor was murdered, the pact between his lineage and Akatosh was broken, allowing Mehrunes Dagon, to open a portal from Oblivion and begin an invasion."

The bard ate her meal slowly, toying with it more than chewing it because of the dark thoughts that occupied her mind. "The first one appeared outside of Kvatch—probably an attempt to kill the last heir to the throne before he could relight the Dragon Fires and reclaim the pact with Akatosh. But then a few began to appear in the wilderness, and now one has appeared along a main road. If the heir cannot reclaim his birthright, I fear the dark portals will continue to spread until the Prince of Destruction himself is able to walk through and call an entire army of daedra down upon Cyrodiil."

Daerazal ate his own steak and washed it down with a mug of ale as soon as the barkeep brought their drinks. "The speculation is quite different in Morrowind. They say the disappearance of Soltha Sil destroyed a pact he made between the Daedric Princes in some magic cavern somewhere, thus enabling them to influence the assassination of the Emperor and pave the road for the Nerevarine's revolution."

Kielanai rolled her eyes at his second-hand knowledge. "It's called the Dreaming Cavern. Soltha Sil was a member of the Psijic Order and he entered an Oblivion portal in the Dreaming Cavern."

He ignored her literary correction and took another bite of his meal. "Do you know who really paved the road for Nerevar's prophetic return? The Empire." Daerazal checked over his shoulder to make sure the barkeep wasn't within hearing range and lowered his voice. "The _Blades_ drafted Chizrae into pretending to be the Nerevarine—and they didn't even tell her what she had been sold into until it was too late to decline. Morrowind was in such dire straits that the Imperial governors decided to make their _own_ reincarnation of Nerevar Indoril to finish off Dagoth Ur."

The Altmer's eyes narrowed with doubt at the twisted claim. "Are you telling me the Nerevarine is a fraud, and the people of Morrowind don't know it?"

"Chizrae resented being used and wanted nothing more to do with the prophecy or the Blades. She just wanted everyone to leave her alone. But if she truly is Nerevar reborn, then the second half of that prophecy promises she will be an enemy of the Empire. They created their own monster. Now she's gone missing. And Morrowind is beginning to think that the Empire is responsible for quietly disposing of their savior."

Kielanai slowly shook her head in disbelief. "The Emperor never would have agreed to using or disposing of someone like that."

"Not even if he felt the safety of Morrowind and the cohesion of the Empire depended on it? Actually, if any followers of the prophecy get word that their Nerevarine was an Imperial fraud, it won't matter _who _called the shots. Combine that with news that a Daedric Prince is opening Oblivion Gates for an invasion of Cyrodiil, and the traditional Dunmer will have a valid reason to secede and openly attack King Helseth and any Imperialist Outlanders they can get their hands on."

The high elf buried her face in her palms and began to fret. "One man dies and an entire continent lies broken and bleeding on the brink of destruction," she whispered. "That's what he's waiting for, I'll bet. Mehrunes Dagon is waiting for us to slowly bleed each other to death until he can strike the final blow to the heir." She sighed to herself and rubbed her temples.

"We may not be able to do anything about the Oblivion Gates, but if we can find out what happened to the Nerevarine, we might be able to bring a small measure of peace to Morrowind and prevent the situation from getting worse here."

"You mean if I don't get killed by anti-Imperialist Dunmer first."

"Well, that's why you have me. My job is to keep them off your back. And as a bonus, I've agreed to help you steal a coveted amulet. I might even let you take credit for everything once both of our tasks are successfully done." Daerazal stood and went to the bar to get a refill.

Unhappy with the way he surmised that, the bard stood followed him to the bar. As he lifted his mug to drink again, the gold elf pointed a long, sharp finger into his chest. "Listen, Shrimp, if you're going to be traveling with me, let's get one thing straight. I'm a bard—not a thief. That means I make my living by singing, dancing, and telling stories in entertainment hubs we pass along the way. Don't get any funny ideas that I will do more than that to earn a gold coin. Yes, I need your help as a warrior to get that amulet, but the only reason I'm stealing it is because it was stolen from its rightful owner in the first place. Oh, and another thing, we stop when I say 'stop' because finding a full tavern with patrons willing to pay for entertainment is one part persistence and two parts luck. That means I have to grab every opportunity that I can to honestly earn my keep in this world ... unlike some barbarians who go around robbing ruins and tombs to sell the treasures of the dead. Got it?"

The dark elf's brows furrowed with slight annoyance as he lowered his mug to face the high elf who was accusing him of such lowly means. "Did you just call me a shrimp?"

))((

Their journey took them past the inn and on toward Kvatch by dusk. Daerazal could see the blackened and crumbled town walls on the hilltop beyond the winding road in the distance, but Kielanai wanted nothing to do with going that way. He thought this was odd considering that was where she had wanted to escort the innkeeper so he would be safe. Instead, she chose to set up her tent just a little past the fork in the road that continued east.

Kielanai's tent had been purchased from a mage in Imperial City, so it acted a bit like Daerazal's magical storage sack. On the outside it was an ordinary tent. But when she placed her hand over the magical glyph glowing on the front flap and uttered the correct words, storage crates, food barrels, and a bedroll appeared on the inside. Daerazal would have been impressed if he hadn't been so tired.

As soon as they were inside, they stored their armor in a crate, ate a late dinner, and fell sound asleep on their bedrolls.

Their first day and night of the journey had been peaceful. So, when morning came with perfect weather, level terrain, and no disturbances from the passed Oblivion Gate, the second day of travel seemed that it would follow the same easy going pattern—easy enough that it quickly became boring again.

After walking in silence for a while, Kielanai tried to think of another creative way to pass the time until they could stop for lunch. "Would you like to hear a story?"

The Drow shrugged and put on his Dwemer sun shades as they walked. "What kind of story?"

"Whatever kind you like. I know lots of them. Stories about magic, stories about love, stories about funny things that have happened, ghost stories ..." She glanced sidelong at him. "You look like the type that could enjoy a good ghost story."

He returned the side glance with obvious doubt. "Ghost stories don't have much affect on me."

"I'll bet they would if it was dark and stormy."

"Time of day has nothing to do with it. I've seen too many strange things in my lifetime. Ghost stories pale by comparison."

"That's quite a boast."

"Not boasting. Just being honest," he assured her with a glance.

"Well, then. Maybe _you_ should tell _me_ a story."

Daerazal smirked. "I wouldn't want to frighten you."

The bard laughed at his turn-table retort. "I don't frighten easily."

"You were frightened by that Oblivion Gate."

Kielanai's humor faded. Instead, she looked offended, even somewhat ashamed. "Mehrunes Dagon and his armies of Dremora and daedra are on the other sides of those gates. _Those gates_ should frighten _everyone_ in Tamriel, including you."

He shook his head. "Couldn't possibly be worse than the wilds of the Underdark."

"The what? I've never heard of such a place."

"It's a place like Oblivion, only it's underground." Ironically, he became aware of the birds singing in the trees along the roadside as he said that. Neither birds nor trees existed in the Underdark.

"How could you possibly know what Oblivion is like? You didn't even know what the Gate was."

"Let's just say I've learned to adapt to inhospitable places."

Kielanai squinted one eye at him as she began, by habit, to appraise this dark elf's personality. "I'm sure the Ashlands are inhospitable because of that volcano, but Oblivion is more like being _inside_ it than near it."

"And where do you think all that magma comes from?" He lifted his chin as if looking down his nose at her, though she stood a good head above him. "Underground."

The Altmer pursed her lips. "Okay, I'll give you that ... but I still think your bark is worse than your bite."

"I only bite if I'm bitten first."

"Give an example, then. Come on. Tell us one of your tales."

Daerazal was thoughtful for a moment wondering whether to take her bait or not. Telling her more about the Underdark wouldn't have been wise, but perhaps now would be a good time to see what she knew about something else. "Alright. I had to fight a werewolf once. Want to hear about that?" He watched as an expression of uncertainty washed briefly over her face. Focusing on the road ahead, she pretended to admire the scenery as they walked. _Interesting ... _

Kielanai laughed lightly in spite of her discomfort with the new topic. "What did you do—bite him and infect him with _elf-anthropy_?"

"He tried to kill me. I was lucky that he chose to back off when he found out I was his brother-in-law."

Kielanai stopped and faced him with concern. "Talvalo … You fought Talvalo's were-form?"

Daerazal smirked at his correct guess. "So, he _did_ tell you."

"No."

This mildly surprised him. "Then, how did you know?"

"I can read people like books once I've gotten to know them a little, and I've known Talvalo since we were children. There's very little he can hide from me. The last time he was home in Imperial City, he spoke to me of some things that happened in Solstheim—said an ex-fiancée caught him with another woman and left him a spiteful present in the form of wine tainted with wolf's blood. He didn't say anything else about it ... but he didn't have to. Body fluids can carry all sorts of maladies, which is why those who suffer bites from werewolves and vampires suffer a fate far worse than death.

"When he left the city shortly after his father was found mauled to death by a wild animal, I suspected he had been infected. I suppose he had it coming to him ... but for all his irresponsibility, Talvalo's a gentle soul. He was a crushed man the last time I saw him ... when he stopped by the cottage to say goodbye. To be honest, I thought I'd never hear from him again. If you fought him, I assume he hasn't found a cure."

Daerazal shook his head. "No."

Kielanai knitted her brows in concern. "Does your sister know?"

"Yes. But they've taken measures to ensure he isn't a threat to her or anyone else now."

"I'm amazed that anyone could put up with Talvalo to such an extent. And their son?"

Daerazal suddenly drew his longsword with a swift _shiiiing_ and ran past her.

"What? _What?_ Wait! Where are you going?"

))((

The dark elf raced up the grassy hill to slash at something that head-butted him backwards with force.

Kielanai started to draw her sword and help him, but she was already too late. Before she could even get her weapon completely out of its scabbard, the warrior snarled and kicked the defeated body down the hill to where she stood—a wild boar. The bard blinked with astonishment at how quickly the fight was over, as he traded his sword for his dagger and headed down the hill to rejoin her. "Wow. You're very _alert_, aren't you."

"You didn't hear it rushing toward us? I guess that means my story was interesting."

She frowned slightly at the amused pride in his tone and used one finger to push her hilt back into place. "That wasn't a story. It was a distraction. I ended up doing most of the story-telling."

He smirked to himself, grasped the boar's leg, and turned the carcass toward himself to skin it and salvage the free meat. "_Tomayto ... tomahto ..."_

Kielanai watched him deftly dress the animal, pop a raw sample of the meat into his mouth, and wrap the prized cuts in the animal's tough skin. So far, in attempting to read her mercenary companion, she had learned that it was difficult to make him smile, but not impossible. She was uncertain whether he could be swayed by compliments because he already seemed pretty confident in himself. That meant he wouldn't easily be bullied. Instead, he was at risk for thinking he was invincible. He definitely had a competitive ego. That meant the only way to persuade him would be to challenge him.

It was her business to know how to handle people. He would be no exception, especially since her life was in his hands. As he cleaned his hands, a familiar pillar of smoke in the distance caught her attention. "Another one?"

"Another what?" He stood and followed her gaze.

"There's another Oblivion Gate up there. That's two along this road." The bard stared at the smoke pillar with worry. How many more gates would they encounter before reaching Skingrad? And what kind of condition would they find Skingrad in when they arrived? She drew her sword as a precautionary measure again.

Daerazal placed the meat in his pack. Saying nothing of her paranoia about these gates, he followed her slow advance once more.

"That's what agitated the boar," she guessed as they kept an eye on the area around the dreaded gate. The closer they came to it, they could see that this one was set far above them on top of a rocky hill. "He wasn't attacking us. He was running from something up there. Look." She used her sword to point to a glowing mass of igneous rocks that were held together in the shape of a humanoid. "Storm Atronach. Very strong ... lightning magic ..." She checked the sky to see if it was darkening yet.

"It hasn't spotted us yet. If you distract it, I could sneak in behind it and do some serious damage from the back." He drew his sword.

The silver-haired elf whipped a glare toward her travel companion. "Have you ever fought one of those before?"

"No, but ..."

"I have. There is no surprising those things. They're made of magic. I know you think I'm a coward, but bards don't go around picking fights with things just because we _can_. If you want to take it on by yourself, go right ahead. But I'm doing the smart thing and sneaking_ around_ it … because I'm supposed to be going to Morrowind."

Daerazal looked as if he was definitely about to accuse her of being a coward, but then he took another look at the hill. "It's too steep for us to reach from down here, anyway."

Relieved that he was on her side about it this time, Kielanai readjusted her grip on her katana and crouched. Running to the other side of the road and going down behind the ditch, she raced past the obtrusion from the hellish other world as quickly as possible. Once again, Daerazal had no choice but to keep up with her sprint to make sure she survived it.

They made it safely past the second Gate without looking back, but the adrenaline rush was strong enough to keep them running a little further down the road. Eventually, they became fatigued and slowed to a stop along the roadside to eat.

They collected wood for a campfire and set up the tent to the side of the road. Kielanai cast a small fire spell on the kindling, and Daerazal rummaged through her seasonings sack. Rubbing his fresh boar steaks with garlic, he placed them on a grill and set them over the fire. It was good to sit back on a fallen log and drink a semi-cold beer after the fast-paced run.

They could now see the fortress walls of Skingrad still a good distance ahead of them. The city was safe, but in the wilderness beyond it, Kielanai's sharp eyes spotted yet another smoke plume. _That's three_, she added to the count with an overwhelming feeling of remorse. This was all her fault. If she had gone after the amulet when she promised, the gates would be shut by now.

"Think we'll make it inside the walls by nightfall?" the dark elf asked, breaking the silence as he stretched out his tired legs.

"I hope so. I have a friend we can stay with in the city if it's not too late, otherwise we'll be stuck paying for an inn."

A chuckle from behind some bushes drew their attention away from the distant gate and city, and a ratty looking Khajiit with a braided mane rose to approach them with a toothy feline grin. "Then I trust you have money to pay for that inn?"

Kielanai quirked a brow and noted the double-bladed battle axe strapped to his back. Most of the cat-like race tended to be of small, light stature, but this one was huge by comparison to his kindred. She was a bit miffed that he had rudely intruded upon their lunch, but she suspected from his question that his motives were even less friendly.

"Excuse me?" Daerazal spoke, just as wary.

"One must have a means to pay for a night at an inn. Judging by your exquisite armor and fine tent, I would imagine you have more than enough means to pay for a room at a place like the Two Sisters Lodge." He looked to Kielanai. "Dearest elf maiden, how about sharing a little with someone of less fortunate means?" His slitted eyes narrowed slightly on the dark elf—a warning for him to stay away.

Kielanai realized the Khajiit had already pegged the warrior to be the bigger threat between the two of them. He was probably right, but she resented the fact that she had been so easily dismissed. She decided to do what she did best, so that Daerazal could do what he did best. "We don't have much to spare, I'm afraid. Would you rather share some of our roast boar?" She gestured toward their lunch.

"It looks delicious. But boar upsets my stomach, and coin is more universal. With coin, I can buy venison and shelter."

"Venison is plentiful and free for the hunting in these woods."

"I have had no luck," the Khajiit snarled, losing patience.

Her brows rose. "Then you're a terrible hunter. Perhaps I could offer archery lessons?" She set down her bottle and made eye contact with Daerazal—an unspoken cue for him to join her protest.

"No archery lessons!" The Khajiit folded his clawed hands over his barrel chest and sneered with flattened ears. "Your money ... or your life."

Kielanai sighed with disgust. "Please. How very cliché. Can't you highwaymen be a little more original with your threats? You have no idea how many robbery stories I've told in which the thief always says the same thing. Do you realize how stupid that makes you look? It's like a military strategy that lines up men in neat little rows to march against each other in broad daylight. You're totally missing out on the element of wit or surprise." In her peripheral vision, she could see the dark elf stand and move with stealth behind the large cat. "Let me show you a better way to get someone's attention and make them listen to you."

The dark elf caught the Khajiit by the neck and slit his throat in one swift move.

Keialani was shocked at the dark elf's merciless judgment, but another Khajiit just as big as the first came running toward them from the bushes. The bard dropped her food and drew her sword to defend herself. "Daerazal! Behind you!"

"Damned elves! We can play it that way if you like!" the large Khajiit growled and drew his axe. Two more gang members rushed out from hiding places and surrounded them.

In a move to divide them, a human with one long brow and a heavy glass mace pushed Kielanai away from Daerazal. The elf was careful not to bring her thin katana to parries against the crushing weapon, so she dodged and waited for the chance to reach past it. But the human's next aim landed a solid hit to the elf's sword arm. Kielanai felt it down to the bone and gasped at the pain, but forced her weakening fingers to continue to grip her weapon as long as possible.

The Breton laughed as the elf clutched her broken arm behind her shield. "Hand over the money, elf bitch, and I'll let you escape with your other arm in one piece!" the bandit taunted as they paced in a cautious circle around each other.

It wasn't until then that Kielanai realized there was a woman beneath that short hair, dirty face, and heavy armor. The elf gritted her teeth. "Well, your straightforwardness surpasses your friend's, but he wins the personal hygiene contest, hands down."

The female Breton growled and took the bait, moving close enough to spread a firm hand over Kielanai's face to hold her still long enough to bash in her skull. But the elf drew on her mother's magical ancestry and placed her good hand against the other woman's chest, blasting flames directly into her armor.

Daerazal had been left to suffer the blows of the Khajiit with the axe by himself, while an elven bowman targeted him from a safe distance with magically enhanced arrows. The Drow averted the Khajiit's swing and darted away from him to slam his shield against the back of the female bandit's head with enough force to knock her to the ground. "Use your magic on the archer!" he snarled toward Kielanai, flipping his daedric sword in his hand and thrusting it straight down into the back of the other woman's neck without a second of hesitation.

Kielanai caught sight of a glowing arrow in his shoulder. The archer behind him was already taking aim again ... at his back. Raising a hand past the dark elf's shoulder and seeking a strong surge of energy from deep within, the bard shot a fireball soaring into the archer's chest. As Daerazal turned back to deal with the pursuing Khajiit, she sent another fireball into the archer—and another, and another—until the bowman dropped to the ground. Kielanai's magic flow seemed endless, but the cold chills and nausea that she felt afterward reminded her that it was not.

Clutching her broken arm, she turned her head and saw the dark elf holding a bloody hand over the arrow protruding from his shoulder as he stood over the defeated Khajiit They had won, but at a price. Slowly, she made her way to him and studied the arrow's glow. "It's draining you."

He gave a small nod and partially unbuckled his armor at the shoulder to expose the wound. "At least it's not poisoned." Grasping the shaft, he prepared to push it the rest of the way through his own flesh.

"No." She abruptly stopped him and moved his hand away. "That will cause more damage." Placing her own hand on the arrow shaft, she cast a disintegration spell, causing it to melt away into nothing.

"Useful trick," he grunted in gratitude.

She placed her hand over the open wound and cast another spell to close the skin around it. Then, she turned her attention to her own arm, mending her bone in a series of repeated little healing spells. When she had finished, she felt quite sick to her stomach.

Daerazal sheathed his sword and made his way to their campfire to check the boar steaks. "Well, at least the food didn't burn."

Kielanai snorted at the comment, went back to the log on which they had been sitting, and sat down. "How do you do it?"

He stabbed two of the steaks with a fork and slipped them onto a plate. "Do what?"

"Carry on like nothing's happened. We could have died. Four other people just did."

"In the end there is only predator and prey. Only the strongest and smartest survive." He moved to the fallen log and offered her the plate. "Eat something. It will restore your energy."

She accepted the plate, but didn't feel like eating now. As her gaze drifted toward the bandits on the ground, she remembered her own outburst to Gwenyth's remains after she had killed the pirates. He was right to some degree. Sometimes the world presented one with a kill-or-be-killed situation, and that's just the way it was. Still, it seemed like there should be something more to life than just survival. The abstract question lingered only a moment before it gave way to material logic. And after a moment, she set down the plate, and returned to the grass, using the toe of her boot, and then her hands to search the tall grass around the female bandit's body.

He stabbed the remaining boar steaks and set them on a plate for himself. "What are you doing?"

"Unibrow's mace rolled in this direction," she muttered, trying to be positive about what had just happened here. Pushing aside the green grass, she tried hard to spot a glimpse of the green weapon that had disappeared somewhere in it. "If we can find it, we can sell it to buy healing potions once we reach Skingrad. I bought a few in Anvil, but I don't want to use them unless I have to. Since you can't do restorative magic, I think we could use a few more."

"Wait a sec. If there was more than one bandit, they probably have a camp around here, too. They might have a few things they can't use anymore that we could ... like healing potions." Daerazal set his plate down on the log beside hers, but then jogged behind their tent a short distance.

Kielanai had just given up on finding the lost weapon when he came back with his arms full of miscellaneous, obviously stolen items. "I don't suppose there's any way to return those to their rightful owners."

"Probably not, but look at this." He dumped the stuff near his magical pack and passed her a note that he found in the bandits' tent.

The high elf accepted the paper and unfolded it to read. "Looks like an Orc name."

"An Orc who can obviously be found at the Two Sisters Lodge in Skingrad at seven sharp," he added, having already read the note himself.

"So?"

"So, we're going to make their delivery of stolen goods for them." The Drow allowed himself a cunning smile, grabbed another bottle of beer from the tent, and sat down to eat his meal.


	5. Chapter 5: Predictably Unpredictable

Chapter 5: Predictably Unpredictable

Daerazal took one look at the narrow, maze-like streets and tall buildings of Skingrad and wondered how they would ever find one lodge in the mess. He couldn't see above or around any of the buildings, so it almost reminded him of the confining walls of an underground cavern.

Kielanai turned down a chosen path and followed it right to the inn's sign. "This is a bad idea," she grumbled as she led the way up the narrow stairs to the entrance. "Since you didn't steal it, you could just sell the junk to an honest merchant. I have friends in this city who could swear for me that I wouldn't steal from innocent travelers. Why you insist on actually getting involved with those thieves is beyond me. Someone could put a bounty on your head ... or worse."

"Especially, if you're announcing my intentions in the streets." His hint for her to be quiet about it was delivered with a dry tone.

The gold elf tossed her long silver hair behind her shoulder and emphatically pressed her lips together before opening the door. They both headed across the upper balcony down into the common room to talk with the female Orc behind the bar. Since it was already dark, Kielanai changed her mind about visiting her friend that night and decided to offer a performance at the inn instead. They paid ten septims for a room and went upstairs to change out of their armor into lightweight summer clothing.

The pair left most of their travel items behind in their room, but Daerazal took the loot from the bandits with him back down to the common room. It was filled with several dinner-time patrons now, and most of them were male Orcs. Daerazal approached the female Orc behind the bar once more and used a discreet tone in addressing her. "Is there an Urgog ma-Bol here?"

"Urgog? He just left," she answered him not-so-discreetly.

"Elves, huh?" Another Orc leaned on the counter next to Daerazal and grinned drunkenly at him so that the large tusks of his under bite clearly showed above his lip. "Are you the entertainment tonight? I just love hearing elves sing. Lot of people might find that hard to believe, but if you've ever heard an Orc sing, you'd know why I prefer to hear elves." He laughed at his own joke and looked beyond Daerazal to Kielanai, taking a glance past her short, fringed dress to her long, slender legs.

"That's probably why you prefer looking at them, too," the dark elf flatly retorted.

As the drunk Orc's expression changed from tolerant to offended, Kielanai quickly gave him a smile of apology and a pat on the arm to make up for her companion's remark. "What he means is we're happy to hear that you look forward to my songs tonight. I'll start in just a moment, okay?"

The Altmer then hurried to the dark elf and snagged the back of his sleeve before he could walk away. Tugging him with her to the back of the room, she turned her smile away from the Orc to give her travel companion a stern frown. "Don't be rude to potential customers," she reprimanded in a hushed voice. "Yes, they're big, green, and ugly, but if you're rude they won't add tips for us. And if the barkeep doesn't get tips, we don't get paid."

"We don't have time for this. Urgog is probably half-way down the street by now."

"Anytime you're ready, Elf!" the female Orc impatiently called from the bar. "And it _better _be good!"

"Yes, yes, of course!" Kielanai answered with a grin. "Great Tiber Septim's Ghost, but I hate working for an all-Orc crowd," she whispered, before walking to the center of the room to introduce herself.

Daerazal gave his head an impatient shake, then slipped away with his sack of stolen goods.

Outside, he ran down the skinny steps and jumped the bottom landing to catch up to the retreating thief liaison. "Urgog ma-Bol!"

The Orc turned to see who had called out his name on the deserted streets. "What do you want?"

Daerazal showed him the folded paper. "I'm afraid your usual contact couldn't make it tonight, so I've come in his stead."

Urgog ma-Bol's beady, yellow eyes glanced suspiciously up and down the street to make sure no guards were nearby. "And _why_ couldn't my normal contact make it?"

"He had a little accident."

"Accident, huh?" Urgog flicked an enchanted dagger from his belt. "Not likely, Dunmer. My contact was a _female_ human. And I don't do business with your kind."

"Apparently you've been part of a very successful highway robbery scam between Skingrad and Kvatch. I could have taken this junk and note to the city guards. I'm sure they'd love to put a stop to your business. So, either you're doing business with a Dunmer, or you're doing business with the guards. Your call."

The Orc was unhappy with the proposition, but he flicked the dagger back into concealment and leaned into the elf's face. "Maybe we should continue this discussion somewhere else, then. So you can show me what you got in the bag."

Daerazal snorted. "See, if you did business with elves more often, you'd realize we're not as stupid as humans. We're staying right here in this nice, well-lit street with those guards down there under the arch. You're going to take a brief look and offer me a price for the whole batch. For the right price, I'll keep your name and location of the bodies of your associates to myself. We both win."

))((

Inside the lodge, Kielanai finished her second song and looked behind her where she had left Daerazal as the Orcs and other patrons gave her a round of applause interspersed with crude shouts of appreciation. Her companion was nowhere to be seen. Excusing herself from being the center of attention for a moment, she made her way back to the bar. "I'm getting a little hot. May I step outside for a breath of fresh air before I continue?"

The female Orc behind the bar sloshed some water into a mug and set it on the counter before the elf. "I hope you know more than two songs if you expect to get paid."

"Oh, yes, of course. It's just ... the heat ..." Kielanai took a fast sip and then set the mug down to hurry up the stairs to the upper balcony of the establishment. Pushing open the front door, she walked out onto the raised stoop near the inn's sign and looked both ways down the lamp-lit street. Relieved to see that the dark elf was only a short distance away talking to the Orc, she started to think up a clever excuse to go down there and pull him back inside, but their conversation soon broke apart on its own.

As Daerazal came back to the lodge, she noted that he was still holding a full sack of goods. "He wouldn't buy it?"

"He agreed to do an exchange tomorrow afternoon in the graveyard behind the chapel. Something's not right about him, though," he added, wary.

The bard quirked a brow at the assessment. "Of _course _something's not right about him; he's a _thief_."

"He said he didn't do business with my kind. I've never known a thief who discriminated. Even where I come from, the only color a thief cares about is gold."

Kielanai was beginning to doubt her decision about agreeing to this trip. "No wonder you didn't think twice about recovering a stolen amulet. You didn't tell me you were a member of the Thief Guild."

"I'm not. But some of my former employers were. I answer to no one but myself now."

Though his answer had not been spoken as a boast or a threat, it angered her. "As long as we are on this trip, we answer to each other. You came out here alone—without telling me, without your armor. He could have dragged your pint-sized backside into an alley and mashed you like a pea."

"My pint-sized ass is a lot harder to drag into an alley than you think it is. If you were so worried, you should have come out here with me, but you wanted to stay inside and sing."

"Because singing is a _safe_ and _legal_ way to earn money."

He snorted in dark amusement. "That drunk Orc wasn't interested in your singing."

The bard frowned in response. "A drunk in a room full of other people is still a hell of a lot safer than meeting a sober thug on a dark, empty street. If this is how you intend to fund the rest of the trip, and you intend to go solo on these decisions, you can take me back home tomorrow. I'll find the stolen amulet on my own, like I should have done in the first place." Kielanai pulled the door handle and marched back inside.

))((

Daerazal opened his mouth to explain his decisions, but she had already retreated back inside. The dark elf sighed and looked up to the moon and stars, as if expecting them to sympathize. "She just _had_ to be a woman about it," he muttered and opened the door to follow her in for the evening.

))((

The next morning, Kielanai was still angry concerning her companion's reckless decision from the night before, but she refused to say anything more about it. Better to make the most of the time left in Skingrad.

She had chosen to wear a blue velvet gown for visiting her friend and insisted that Daerazal also wear something nice. When all he could pull out of his pack was a leather outfit with silver-chain spider-webs laced into it, she immediately took the uncultured Ashlander shopping. The dark elf scowled at almost every silk, lace, or velvet thing that she draped over him, but for his sister's sake, he tolerated the Altmer's urge to transform him into something more sophisticated. Eventually, he walked out of the shop wearing a red velvet gentleman's tunic and knickers.

"I feel like a butler," he grumbled scratching at the stiff fabric. "This makes standing in the sun a good twenty degrees hotter."

"Stop grousing. You look dapper, and it's only for a couple of hours."

His lip curled in distaste at her compliment. "_Dapper_?"

"It means you look like a gentleman of the castle court, rather than someone emerging from the Dark Brotherhood's crawlspace. My friend that we're going to see, is a gentleman of wealth and noble culture. He enjoys hosting fancy feasts, so we're going to play along." After straightening his tunic and sighing at the long white bangs that nearly hid his eyes from view, Kielanai led the way to the wealthier section of the city and stopped at a manor called Rosenthorn Hall.

A middle-aged woman answered the door, and her face immediately lit into a smile. "Kielanai! You're back in town. It's so very good to see you again." She greeted her with a warm hug. "Please do come in, Milady."

"Thank you, Eyja." Kielanai returned the hug and politely entered the nice home. "I hope I'm not too early for a visit. And, I brought along a new friend. This is Daerazal ..." She winced realizing she'd forgotten his last name.

"Velve'Xukuth," he finished for her.

"Very nice to meet you, My Lord. The Master will be so surprised to see you, Milady. I'll tell him you're here." Eyja headed through the study and up the stairs.

When she returned downstairs a moment later, Daerazal was surprised to see that the master of the house ... was an Orc. Korg mag-Uruk gave Kielanai a hug that lifted her off of her feet and seemed as if it would have broken her in half, but Kielanai only laughed at the unusually strong greeting. Apparently the high elf's previously expressed opinions of Orcs didn't apply to this one. The dark elf was careful to hold his tongue about it, especially they were invited to join him for a large breakfast.

The _dapper_ warrior hungrily devoured the freshly baked bread, apple and rice porridge, and fried boar strips while the bard shared reports of how her move to Anvil had been progressing. He noticed that she said nothing of why she had come to Skingrad, and Korg did not ask. Bards apparently never needed an excuse to show up unexpectedly at friend's homes. It was assumed they were here just to play the part of the troubadour. However, when she asked to be excused to the lavatory for a moment, leaving the two unfamiliar men alone at the table, Daerazal could see that their host was wondering why she was accompanied by a dark elf this time.

He decided to try his hand at being conversational in order to fend off any unwanted questions before they could begin. "Lived in Skingrad for a long time?" he asked as he chewed the last boar bacon on his silver plate.

"Most of my life, actually." Korg spoke with a gruff voice, but grinned with a friendly manner. "Only bought this place about a year ago, though. I hired Eyja because I'm not much of a cook myself. Eyja loves to cook, and I love to eat! It's a shame she doesn't have a little more meat on her bones or she'd make me a perfect wife." He rubbed his stomach with a mild laugh. "You should try her shepherd's pie and mead some time. I know people think Orcs can't appreciate human or elven finery, but I don't appreciate people telling me what I can't appreciate. When most humans and elves look at Orcs, they see one of two things: mercenary muscle or scavenger. But there's a growing number of us out there that resent that. I mean it's not like we're ogres or something. They got an Orc working in the castle here in Skingrad, too—and I don't mean as a body guard."

"Sounds as if you might like that position yourself."

"Nah, I'm a warrior at heart. Used to be a general in the Legion. I'm retired now, except when friends need a helping hand."

"I guess you could say I'm a retired warrior, too."

"Really? Well, what'd you get all gussied up for? You can't swing an axe in that get-up. Next time you come to town, let me know, and you and I can go do some hunting or something." The Orc chuckled heartily.

Momentarily dismissing his irritation at having been dressed up for no reason, the dark elf decided to take a leap of faith. "Ever heard of an Orc named Urgog ma-Bol?" Daerazal pulled the folded paper with the information from his pocket and passed it to him.

"Yeah, I know the name." Korg's yellow eyes narrowed making his tusks protrude in a menacing manner as he opened the note to read it. "He's a shady character, that one. Definitely the type that gives the rest of us a bad name."

"He's the contact for a group of bandits that have been cleaning out travelers between here and Kvatch. He's supposed to be waiting for me at the graveyard this afternoon to do a trade, but I'd be happier if he met with a few guards instead. Their camp where I collected his name is just a few miles down the road to the west. You can tell them to look for the remains of a broken campfire along the left side of the road and go right a short distance from there. The bodies of the bandits are probably still there … if the wolves didn't eat them."

Korg laughed out loud at the dark elf's way of handling the matter. "Guess he picked on the wrong person this time, huh?" His eyes skimmed the note's details.

Standing in the doorway, lips parted in astonishment, Kielanai had come back just in time to hear the end of Daerazal's explanation. "Did you intend to turn him in all along?"

Daerazal met her gaze and then registered a subtly sinister expression as he leaned back in his chair to finish off his drink. "Let's just say I resent being taken for a chump by a bunch of bandits."

Kielanai grinned with pride at her partner's cunning and rushed to sit back down in her chair across from him. "Why didn't you just turn him in last night?"

"I wanted to hear what he had to say before accusing him. A lot of shit can fall through the cracks if you accuse the wrong people—a lesson I learned the hard way a long time ago."

"You could have at least told me what you were planning."

"I was going to, but you preferred to sing and show off your legs to a bunch of drunks. Had you shown your legs to Urgog, he might have been more willing to talk to me."

She smiled, pleased that she had been wrong. "Well, he must have liked _your_ legs well enough to agree to another meeting."

The Orc laughed at their mutual chiding and refolded the slip of paper. "I will most certainly pass this along to the guards for you, now that you're sure you got the right guy. They should be very interested in this because it's been rumored that Urgog ma-Bol was heading up a gang for something big up in Skyrim. I think everyone was wishing he'd leave, but seeing him behind bars is better."

"Skyrim?" Daerazal set down his goblet. "Maybe he's wanting a piece of the action the Nords are offering to mercenaries who can help them take Solstheim from Morrowind."

Kielanai nodded in agreement. "That's probably why he didn't want to do business with you. He didn't trust a Dunmer to keep quiet about an attack on Morrowind. You would have been too … predictably unpredictable."

"Now that's what you call ironic." Korg tucked the paper into his vest.

"Still got your writing supplies with you?" Daerazal asked of Kielanai.

"In my pack. Why?"

The dark elf stood and crossed to the other side of the table, next to her. "I promised Elaren I'd send a message about your safety. If it's written in your own handwriting, it would assure him that you're okay ... unless you still want me to take you home."

Kielanai gave him a sigh of apology, then looked back to their host. "Korg, would you mind delivering a message to the Anvil Mage Guild for me?"

"Not at all."

"There are several Oblivion Gates on the road between here and there now, so please be careful if you take it yourself, or at least warn your courier." The Akaviri-Altmer stood and walked with the Drow to get her writing things from her backpack in the study.

The Orc general stood and followed. "There's two near the city, as well. People are getting nervous. A clannfear here; a scamp there ... We all know there's bigger things waiting to come out of those gates; we just can't figure out what they're waiting for." He unlocked and opened his desk for her to freely use his writing tools and letterhead insignia.

From her crouched position over her belongings, Kielanai looked up to Daerazal. "I'll add Urgog ma-Bol's name to my notebook. If he has any contacts in Skyrim or Solstheim, the Imperial Legion in Morrowind might be able to make use of the information to protect the border."

Daerazal started to protest, but his eyes went to the generous Orc standing to his left. He didn't want the Imperial Legion involved in Morrowind's affairs any more than they already were, but he didn't want to offend his host. He would discuss it with her later.

"We should go to the merchant and sell those goods next," she suggested. "Then, we can make stops at the city's taverns for lunch, and be on our way without Urgog even knowing he's been set up."

The dark elf frowned at her plan and scratched lightly at the side of his nose. "Um ... wouldn't it be better to beat it out of here now?"

"I have a friend just down the street here that runs a very classy place. The tips are very generous. Every little bit helps."

"Another friend ..." he muttered, thinking she used that word a lot.

"I make a lot of friends in the towns I visit, and it's always good to say hello when I'm around. Korg has offered us a big breakfast and even aided you in arresting the leader of the bandits that robbed us. He's a _nice_ Orc. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, but it's the _mean_ Orc that concerns me," Daerazal unhappily answered, making the gentleman-general chuckle.

"Ah, so you're finally admitting he could smash you like pea," she quipped in return. "Never fear. You can hide some place safe ... like the basement. And if Urgog shows up to ask about you, I'll just show him my legs." Standing, she gave the skirt of her blue velvet gown a small flip, then walked to the desk to begin her letter to Elaren.

))((

When they left Skingrad, after visiting every tavern in the city, Daerazal and Kielanai headed east on the Gold Road again. It was another two days' walk to reach the outskirts of Lake Rumare and the village of Weye, just outside of Imperial City. Having run past two more Oblivion Gates and encountered several wild animal attacks along the way, the uncomfortable and wary pair didn't sheathe their weapons until they were standing at the intersection between the road leading directly to the capital city, or west.

Daerazal stopped and wiped the sweat from his brow. This territory he had seen once before at least, when he came up from Nibenay. It was hard to forget seeing the magnificent White Gold Tower and enormous walls of Imperial City—the heart of all Tamriel. And Weye was the little village where Talvalo had originally sent him to find the bard. Glad to be here, he started to head east toward the enormous bridge crossing the lake.

"We turn west from here," Kielanai corrected him without consulting a map. She hadn't opened a map once since starting the trip.

"West? We can't turn west. We just came from the west?"

"The west road turns north, and we have to go north from here."

"Isn't there an east road that turns north?"

"Yes, but Imperial City is an island. The only thing directly on the eastern side is water. You're still going to have to take this west road to go north around it ... unless you're in the mood for a good long swim or a water-walking spell."

The dark elf warrior's lip curled at the mention of the water walking magic. He turned west, but Kielanai grabbed his arm and halted him again. An armored man on a chestnut brown horse was riding down the road toward them. Daerazal's first response was to draw his sword in case it was another bandit.

"Put that away before you hurt someone. It's just a Legion soldier."

"Then why'd you stop me?"

"We're stopping here for the night."

"In Weye? The inns are better in Imperial City."

"This is different. I have something personal to attend." Her stubborn refusal to keep going was spoken softly and somewhat somberly this time. Releasing his arm, she headed toward one of the thatched buildings along the roadside.

Daerazal sighed to himself and sheathed his sword again. The light reflecting off of the lake nearly blinded his sensitive eyes as he did so—a harsh reminder that he needed to pull out his Dwemer sun shades now that the sun was high in the sky once more. He paused to dig in his pack for them.

"What's the problem, citizen?" the solider asked as his horse drew near. "This had better be good."

Daerazal wasn't expecting such a surly tone. "Are you talking to me? _Don't._"

"You flagged me down."

"I did not flag you down, Legion Dog, I was looking for my shades. And my _problem_ is walking away from me while I waste time talking to you about it." He gave a short, disgusted gesture toward the bard going in the opposite direction of their destination, but then put on the shades and followed her.

Kielanai stopped at the front steps of a thatched cottage and gazed sadly at the overgrown condition of the surrounding plot of land.

"Another friend to visit?" Daerazal dryly predicted, waiting for her to receive another bear hug for making her presence known.

"I wish." Kielanai removed her backpack and fumbled in it for a key. "But my human mother is dead." Inserting the key into the front door, she pushed it open and reached for the dusty lantern hanging just inside the entrance. After whispering a small fire spell into it, she closed the glass panel and entered the old home to open the windows to the sun.

Daerazal allowed himself a pinched expression for his foot-in-mouth comment, bit back any further sarcasm, and followed her inside. He gazed up at the shelves full of small barrels of dried alchemical ingredients from the old woman's former business. The kitchen smelled of lavender, hyacinth, and musty wizardry things that were probably better left in their storage places. "So, this was your home before you moved south of Anvil?"

"This is the place where my human mother raised me. My real mother was an alchemist, too, but Gwenyth is the one who taught me everything she knew about gardening, herbs, and potions. I never wanted to be an alchemist, though. I wanted to travel and see the rest of the province. We argued a lot about it. But early this year, something happened ... I did not tell anyone. The night that my real mother gave me into the hands of my human mother, there was one pirate among the others I remembered well. He looked like a man, but I knew he was one of them—Tsaesci. He was a sorcerer."

Kielanai looked down at her long, slender arms as her fingers traced something unseen across her golden skin. "Snake tattoos on his arms glowed with magic at his command, and spirit snakes constricted my father and sank their poisoned fangs into him. I ran to tell my mother what I saw, but no matter where I ran, there were more Tsaesci."

Daerazal leaned back against the counter and crossed one ankle over the other where he stood.

"Earlier this year, I saw him again in the Temple District of Imperial City. He didn't know me because I've grown so much since then ... but I remembered him. So, I summoned a Chameleon spell over myself and followed him to his ship docked by the Waterfront to try to find out more about who he was, why he was there ... if they were still on my family's island. My spell wore off too soon, and he had me arrested for trespassing." She walked around the table and paused to blow the dust from the window sill facing the front of the property.

"So, you accused me of being a thief, while neglecting to inform me that you're an ex-convict."

Kielanai turned her chin to see him from where she stood at the window. "I was pardoned because I had done nothing wrong, and the guards had bigger concerns. When I came back home, my human mother was dead." She shook her head slightly and set her backpack on the table. "I took care of her body, but then went back to convince the pirate he needed a bard in his gang. They took me with them ... and that's how I found Kojima again." She looked up and tried to give him a brief smile.

Stripping out of her armor, she pulled a work apron from a cabinet and tied it behind her shirt. "I don't know how she died, but I feel I killed her somehow. My last words to her were defiant and angry. She wasn't an easy person to live with, but it probably wasn't easy for her to raise an elven child."

Crossing the room to a barrel, the Akaviri-Altmer retrieved some gardening gloves from it. "I will repair the neglect that has settled over Gwenyth's garden here, and we can be on our way again tomorrow. Use this time to fix our armor and buy supplies in the city. The road to Bruma is cold, steep, and harsh. Keep that in mind with your purchases." Returning to the table, she pulled a money pouch from her pack and tossed it to him.

Daerazal caught it in one hand and nodded in silent agreement. Gathering her armor and katana, he packed them into his own travel bag.

Kielanai blew out the lantern and hung it back on the nail at the entrance. Then, she led the way back into the sun and headed straight for the rusted gardening tools leaning against the side of the house.

As she set to work, Daerazal weighed the money pouch in his hand, trying to estimate the amount in it. The relationship with her mother that she had spoken of and what she was feeling, he couldn't understand. But he understood that nothing he could say would ease her loss. He watched her begin digging weeds among the flowers for a moment, trying to give back something that could never be returned. Then, he squinted toward the gold and white tower rising above the fortified city.

"I'll try to be back before sunset," he told her. Then, hefting his bag to his shoulder, he headed toward the bridge crossing the lake.


	6. Chapter 6: Masquerade

Chapter 6: Masquerade

The sun was close to the horizon when Kielanai finished working her way through the rows of fragrant flowers and herbs around the cottage. Wiping the dirt and sweat from her brow, she stood and surveyed what she had done with a exhausted sense of satisfaction. She removed her dirt-caked gloves and grabbed the handles of a nearby basket full of her harvested goods, but then she heard the growl of a wildcat on the other side of the house. "Cougar ..." she whispered in alarm.

Though Mouzer was still a baby, she had learned his habits well enough to know that the animal wouldn't have made a noise if it were stalking her ... unless something else was stalking it.

Kielanai released the basket to reach for a weapon at her belt, only to realize too late that she had given her weapons to Daerazal. Her eyes darted around the yard for anything within reach. Then, grabbing the shovel, she pressed her back against the wall and reminded herself that she still had magic.

Slowly, she inched her way through the tall grass toward the front of the house. A chameleon spell might help her make it to the door so she could lock herself inside, but if it was a daedra from an Oblivion gate, it would be better to throw an ice spell and make a mad dash for the inn across the street. Where were the Imperial Legion patrols when they were actually _needed_?

Something dark suddenly flashed around the corner into her face.

Too startled to grasp energy for a spell, she swung the shovel with all her might.

Daerazal grunted in discomfort as his raised arm bore the brunt of the hit to protect his head. "_Iblith!_ Nine hells, woman! What are you trying to do to me?"

Kielanai exhaled with relief, but then frowned. "_You're_ the one sneaking up on _me_!"

"I thought you were another wildcat creeping around the corner."

Her eyes shifted to the bloody dagger in his hand, then past him to the slain wildcat on the ground behind him. "Well ... I … thought … Ididn't know what you were." She lowered the shoved and turned away. "_Baka na ronin _..."

"Okay, I don't know what you just called me, but I'm guessing by the tone it wasn't a compliment. Did you _want_ to get eaten by a wild cat?"

Kielanai pitched the shovel to the ground. "Just mildly embarrassed that you frightened me. Then again, at least I wasn't taken by _surprise_ in _broad daylight_ by a _bard_ with a _shovel_. I'd be grateful there were no other witnesses if I were you." Dusting her hands on her apron, and marched back to her basket to take it inside.

The dark elf snarled at her for pointing that out, but sheathed his dagger and went back to the road to retrieve the backpack and boots he had shed in order to sneak up on the prowling beast.

The bard entered the cottage kitchen and set the basket on the table. "I could have handled it, you know. I'm not be a warrior, but I'm not a weakling either," she told him when he came in behind her.

"You didn't even know it was there." He set his bag on the table and removed her armor and weapons for her to inspect the repairs. Then, he passed the remainder of her money to her.

She opened the purse to see what was left. "It's practically empty. What did you do with it?"

"I had both sets of armor repaired and bought extra gems for recharging the equipment. You can thank me when we get to Morrowind in one piece." He plucked a strawberry from the basket and dusted it off before popping it into his mouth.

"But that's all I had."

"You can sing tonight to make up the difference. There's inns and taverns all over the place here." He rubbed his arm where she hit him with the shovel.

"If I feel like staying up until sunrise to visit them all." She sighed supposing there was nothing to be done about those kinds of expenses. "Well, at least I have free food now. And I can buy some bread from Narussa after I sing at the Wawnet Inn tonight. I'll give you the house key, so you can come back here after dinner if you don't want to stay for the performance."

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss it for the world."

The bard searched for a clean cloth to wrap the abundant fresh food supply in before packing it. "You really want to hear me sing?"

"Of course. The tavern owners at the last two places offered me free mead when you got the customers to order a second round." He plucked another strawberry from the basket and munched it.

Kielanai removed her work apron, wadded it into a ball and tossed it at the back of his snow-white head, then waited for him to turn and look at her as it dropped to the floor. "Stop eating our travel rations now, or we won't have any for the road. And honestly,_ mead_?"

"What?"

"I should have known better than to think a sword-arm was capable of appreciating creative arts, but you could at least be a little more polite about it, considering it's what _got_ you that mead."

"Isn't that what I said?"

"You know, I may have been wrong about you being a thief, but I was right about your being a typical mercenary. You're nice when you have something to gain from it. I get it now. You didn't turn in that thug to spare other people his crime; you turned him in for revenge." After casting a fire spell into the hearth to light the kitchen, she shouldered her back pack. "I don't know why I bothered to dress you in gentleman's clothing; there is nothing noble about you."

"Depends on your definition of noble," he muttered under his breath.

It was the way he said it that struck her as odd. But leaving the conversation at that, Kielanai took the lantern and went upstairs to change into clean clothing for the evening.

))((

Early the next morning, the bard visited as many taverns in Imperial City as she could manage to pad their purses before continuing their journey. But just when the warrior thought the journey was ready to continue north, the bard turned west again at the next intersection in the road.

The warrior finally consulted his map, which he had not used it at all since following her lead. He complained that she was leading them too far out of the way, but the bard insisted on stopping in Chorrol because it was the last big town before the long, mountainous road to Bruma.

As they trudged up the steep northwestern road, the air cooled. Flower and fauna were different in this region, so Kielanai paused periodically along the shoulders of the road to hunt for some rare mushroom reagents. Her foraging, however, alerted the bears and minotaurs that lived in the highland forest - creatures much stronger than the wolves and cougars of the southern grassland regions. They collected a number of pelts and horns from the encounters, but Daerazal's light, elven armor took heavy damage from being the initial target so often. Eventually, he was forced to changed into heavy dwemer alloys to better withstand the powerful blows.

They ran across another bandit, too - a lone Orc. By now the bard and the warrior were learning how to coordinate each other's fighting styles better, so their defense was handled with relative ease. Daerazal rushed ahead and held out as the main target to give Kielanai the chance to use her magic before both of them flanked their attacker with blades.

He found it curious that she held no fear when confronted by a wild animal or barbaric humanoid, but each time they came to an Oblivion gate, she was reduced to a nervous wreck. They passed two more of the hellish portals, one of which spawned a wandering clannfear that pursued them. Daerazal told her to run ahead and offered to end the attack by himself.

Kielanai was glad to run away, but then she felt terribly guilty watching the battle from a safe distance. She ended up running back into the skirmish with an ice spell on her fingertips. It was only a small victory over a small daedra, and the warrior had done most of the hard work weakening it, but for the bard, any victory over any daedra was a big accomplishment.

Night fell with a heavy summer shower by the time they finally arrived at the Oak and Crossier Inn in Chorrol. Kielanai ducked into the lavatory to change into dry clothing, but Daerazal stayed in the common room to pay for their food and eat his crusty bread at a table near the hearth while his mutton stew was being prepared.

When the bard returned, she was refreshed, humming to herself, and barefoot. Moving before the fire to dry her rain-damp hair, the Akaviri-Altmer began doing various arm, leg, and back stretches.

The Drow stopped chewing his crusty bread.

From her somewhat upside-down back stretch, she noticed his silent interest and straightened. "Sometimes I dance instead of singing," she explained, turning on her toes in a graceful manner. "You didn't appreciate my singing before, so tonight I'm going to dance."

"I never said I didn't appreciate your singing."

"True, you just appreciate mead more." Stretching her shoulders, she wrapped one arm around the other and lifted them both high above her head. "Tell me, what kind of dances do Ashlanders do?"

"We choose _not _to dance," he answered as the serving wench brought his steaming stew and set it on the table before him.

"Really," she doubted as the serving wench left. "Not _one_ single Ashlander in Morrowind dances? Or have I finally found something that frightens the mighty warrior?"

"I still don't see why we came here. There's no road connecting Chorrol to Bruma."

She smiled, satisfied. "Too obvious changing the subject. And I already told you it's because Chorrol is the last town before hiking through the Jerall Mountains."

"But it's not even on the way. We're wasting time coming this far off track."

"It's not a waste. It's an investment. I'm making money while we still can."

"Our destination lies northeast—not west. We need to be making time, not money. If we need more money, we should be looting ruins on a northern road along the way."

"Scouring every nook and cranny in one of those ruins would take just as long and be twice as dangerous. One day's delay won't make any difference to a journey that is going to take weeks. I think we should drink up the comforts and provisions while they're available. I have a friend here who has _two_ extra bedrooms in her house." She held up two fingers and wiggled them as if tempting him to agree with her that this was a good idea. "She usually offers me free room and board when I'm in town—a much better deal than sleeping in vermin-infested, haunted ruins."

"_Another _friend? How many friends do you have scattered across this province, anyway?"

"Enough that I am proud to say my friends _are _my wealth." The bard remained blithe about it in spite of the warrior's rising irritability. "This one happens to be a dark elf, Daerazal. She might even offer room and board to the likes of you … if you play nice." She punctuated the claim with playful wink.

"Greetings, Dunmer!" Their conversation was interrupted by a Breton who approached Daerazal with a zealous handshake. "I don't think I've seen you around here before. Welcome to Chorrol."

The Drow frowned at the intrusive introduction, but before he could say anything in return, the Breton pointed to Kielanai and grinned even bigger.

"Wait a second. I take that back. You _do _look familiar. You're one of the minstrels that entertains periodically at the Grey Mare. Am I right?" he guessed.

"Yes, that's right." She smiled and shook his hand. "I entertain here, as well. My name is Kielanai."

"Excuse me … We were having a private discussion," Daerazal interrupted the interruption.

"Don't mind him." The bard waved away her companion's complaint. "He's just come in from Morrowind. He's a bit cranky because, apparently, _nobody_ there knows how to dance. But I'll be dancing _and_ telling news from as far south as Anvil in a few minutes. Please make yourself comfortable and stay."

"Not here, though," Daerazal inserted. "Go sit over there somewhere." He gestured to the far side of the room as he picked up his bread and tore off a chunk to dip into his stew.

The local man looked with disdain at the dark elf. "Well, I've met friendlier ogres."

"Well, they probably knew how to dance," the dark elf muttered over his mouthful.

The Breton turned to the gold elf. "I should leave before my temper gets the better of me, but for you my dear, I will stay. There's an empty seat at my table, should you wish to join me when you tire of keeping company with barbarians." He lifted the back of Kielanai's hand to his lips to deliver a kiss, glared at the dark elf in warning, then proceeded to a table to wait for his meal and the bard's performance.

The Akaviri-Altmer gave the Drow's shoulder a mild cuff. "Once again you almost chase away my customers. Don't be such a _ronin_."

"I don't even know what that means." He tore off another chunk of bread, dipped it in the stew, and popped it in his mouth.

"A _ronin_ is a samurai with no master—a knight who deserted, or was deserted by, the one who trained him. He is usually a wanderer who is undisciplined, ungrateful, and without honor." The bard thoughtfully tapped her chin while giving the warrior a scrutinizing stare, then placed her hands on her hips and leaned down nose-to-nose with him. "Perhaps I should teach you how to dance, so my Dunmer friend doesn't mistake you for a pint-sized ogre."

Daerazal could see a glint of humour in her eye. Slipping an arm around her shoulders, the Drow cleared his throat and spoke as if letting her in on a little secret. "Butt-munch over there is the one that barged in on _my_ dinner, yet he's calling _me_ an ogre. Now, we're not even supposed to _be_ here because I'm supposed to be helping you find a stolen amulet, so that you can help me find my sister. But since you keep finding excuses to visit taverns and friends, even taverns and friends who are far out of the way, I'm beginning to get the impression you're hiding something. Or _running_ from it, like you run from those Oblivion gates ... Do you even know where this missing amulet is? _Is_ there a real amulet? Or am I just a sword to protect you from those gates while you travel your circuit all over Cyrodiil?"

The humour in the bard's expression fell. "The amulet is in a cavern southeast of Bruma."

"Do you know _which_ cavern?"

"Yes."

"You're _sure_?"

"Yes. It's marked on my map."

"Then, tomorrow we will go_ directly _there."

The bard looked terrified, but she nodded in agreement.

"And then we will head _directly_ northeast to Morrowind. You can return the amulet to its rightful owner after we return from Akavir."

Kielanai shook her head. "_No._ We have to take the amulet back to its owner as soon as we get it."

His eyes narrowed with suspicion because of her behavior. "_Why_? How could a necklace be more important than saving someone's life and preventing an unnecessary civil war."

The bard tore her attention away from his piercing gaze to notice that the room was beginning to fill with patrons—the kind that came out purely for an evening of social fun. "Not now. Not here. I'll explain later."

Pulling away from him, she reached into her backpack and removed a white, satin-and-jeweled mask and an enchanted music box. Denying him the chance to ask further questions, the bard slipped the shimmering mask over her eyes and walked into the center of the room. Slightly crouched, she put a finger to her lips, as if poised to contradict herself and tell everyone but him her big secret. People chuckled and pointed, but eventually the whispers became hushed until she had everyone's attention.

Smiling in spite of the fear his questions brought to her surface, she turned so everyone could see the music box she held. Winding its key, she carried it to the hearth. As she opened the music box, it began to play a pretty, tinkling melody. Kielanai began stepping lightly, one foot then the other, in time with the fragile tune. Slipping a thin scarf from a delighted on-looker's shoulders, she tied it about her hips forming a make-shift skirt over her leggings. Now she had all the mystique of a masquerade dancer at an impromptu, castle ball.

The Drow sighed, exasperated with her cat and mouse behavior and impatient that they had lost another day of travel time for no good reason. But at least the inn was dry and the music was soothing. The shadows of the hearth fire danced across the bard's golden skin, as if keeping pace with the orchestrated chimes of the music box.

Like a silk web, the Akaviri-Altmer's silver hair flowed over her arms and back. From small ballerina toe steps to long leaps and swirls, her movements were fluid and captivating. When _was_ the last time he danced? Daerazal couldn't remember at first. Then, a distant memory returned to his mind like a drifting ghost chained to a worldly existence. It was the night that he made his vows ... to _her_.

As if reading his mind, the masked ballerina approached, curtsied, and held out her hand. A small smile touched her lips—a minx smile.

"I know nothing of your dance customs," he answered her ploy to coax him out of his chair.

Without a word, the mysterious dancer took his hands and pulled him forward anyway. She swirled around him, placing his hand on her waist, while holding the other. The momentum of her swirl pulled him into another swirl with her, which he easily adapted to and then assumed the lead.

"You're a natural," she spoke after some of the other patrons began to join them in the dance.

"That surprises you? Fighting is as much choreography as any dance. The final bow just happens to be _truly final_." It was an odd thing to have in common with her.

"So, dancing does not frighten you. Does anything frighten you?"

"Truth."

She gave that answer thoughtful consideration. "This is a human dance called a 'waltz',"she informed him with a smile. But beneath the mask, he could tell her eyes had become haunted once more. "I'm sorry about they delays," she continued. "No more side excursions, except to get and return the stolen amulet. I promise."

Daerazal gave a small nod accepting her apology. He pushed no further on the subject as they swept in small circles around the floor. But he expected a full explanation when the dance was over.

))((

"How about some wine?" Therana Relas passed Daerazal and Kielanai two silver goblets, filling them to the rim. "I've broken open my best bottle, so you two just relax and enjoy it." The Dunmer had happily invited them into her home to stay for the night, just as Kielanai predicted she would.

"I got 200 septims for dancing at the Oak and Crossier." The bard shook her money pouch for her friend to hear. "Are you sure you don't want some compensation for your hospitality?"

"Do I look like a stodgy old innkeeper? Keep it. You'll need it for your travels. And then you'll need some more to come back this way to tell me where you've been."

"But of course." Kielanai grinned.

Therana turned her attention to Daerazal. "And what's your story? You must have some interesting tales of your own, or you wouldn't be traveling with the likes of her."

"Kielanai does enough story-telling for both of us," he politely declined.

Therana met his modest response with a cunning smile. "I see. Then I guess I'll have to get _her_ to tell me something about you."

Kielanai chuckled, but was at a complete loss except for what she had gleaned from his body language while on the road. "I've only just met him myself, so I'm afraid I can't tell you much. He's sarcastic, but it's hard to make him laugh at jokes," she announced drawing a slanted glance from the warrior, though he held his tongue. "He's proud, but not susceptible to flattery. He loves a challenge, so you may get more than you bargained for if you attempt to intimidate him. He prefers actions to words and is _very_ focused. So, he doesn't really talk about himself. But he likes comberry pie, has never had chewy toffees, and prefers oranges over apples." She looked to him for approval of her personality assessment.

He merely smirked in low-key amusement and shook his head.

"Oh, now that_ is _a juicy fact." Therana laughed. "Get it? Orange and apple juice ... Okay, never mind. I'd make a pathetic jester. How do you say your name again?"

"Da-e-ra-zal … Velve'Xukuth," he partially slowed it down for her.

"Ashlanders must have very unusual names compared to Imperial Dunmer. Intriguing accent, too. You probably speak an ancient dark elven tongue as your native language. Am I right?"

"I learned the Imperial language by wearing a translation amulet that belonged to my sister."

Fascinated by her unusual guest, Therana held her hand next to his to marvel at their differences—her own ash blue skin paled next to his iridescent obsidian. "Look at that. It's hard to believe we are both Dunmer. Then again, I've never even been to Morrowind. I was born and raised in Cyrodiil, but I hear my family originated somewhere around Balmora."

"Balmora's nice," he vaguely answered.

"Which Ashlander tribe are you from?"

"I've … been living in Seyda Neen."

Kielanai quirked a brow because, according to his body language, he was avoiding the question. No, wasn't right. This time, he didn't know the answer. How could he not know which tribe he was from?

"Hm, ... Not familiar with that city." She turned back to Kielanai. "This friend that you're visiting in Morrowind, is he an Ashlander, too?"

"No. Talvalo is a full-blood Altmer from Imperial City, but he married Daerazal's sister."

"_Really?_" Therana was shocked, but clearly amused as she faced Daerazal. "Most elves would find that absolutely scandalous. Do you approve?"

He considered his answer carefully before offering it. "It wasn't my decision to make."

Again, Kielanai noticed something in his body language that meant didn't want to talk about it. But it wasn't due to anger or bias. There was a subtle sense of regret behind his tone.

"Ooh, you'd better watch yourself around this one." She prodded Kielanai's arm in a joking manner. "There might be something of substance beneath that armor."

"Oh yes, my favorite time of day is when the armor comes off." The bard quipped, rapping a knuckle on his pauldron. "Of course all the plate mail does tend to make him look _bigger_ than he actually is, but he's not as small as you'd think without it."

Therana chuckled. "Well, you know what they say. Good things come in small packages."

"True. He has been very good to me." The Akaviri-Altmer laughed lightly and tapped her wine goblet against his in a lighthearted toast. "And I might not be able to put my head on his shoulder while we're dancing, but I can smother him in my chest if he so much as looks at another woman."

"Oh, I could think of better excuses for smothering, dear." Therana laughed out loud.

"Can you? I don't really need a bodyguard in your home. Would you like to borrow him tonight? He hasn't been a problem for snoring yet, and his face is smooth as a baby's bottom. That last one's a valid bonus if you're thinking of smothering him with attention."

Daerazal gave the bard a rather dry side-glance.

Kielanai giggled and gave his cheek a soft pat. "You're such a good sport."

Therana laughed again and gave his shoulder a supportive pat as well. "I'm sorry, Daerazal. The men in this town are just so boring that I tend to forget my manners when someone new comes around. They wouldn't know a girl was flirting with them she hit them in the face with a shovel—not that anyone here is worth flirting with."

"Shovel," he spoke, casting another side-glance toward the bard. "Interesting way of flirting."

"Anyway, please forgive my brazen humor. Kielanai should have warned you about me."

"I warned him," Kielanai assured her, hoping he wouldn't bring up the fact that she actually _did_ hit him with a shovel.

Therana set down her goblet. "Speaking of armor coming off, I'm sure both of you would like to change into something more comfortable. Let me go make sure the spare bedrooms have fresh linens." Taking the bard's arm in hers, she led her toward the stairs. "You can help yourselves to some sweet cake and tell me all about what you've been into ..."

))((

As the other dark elf's chatter became distant, Daerazal shook his head and moved to stand by the fire. Therana had a sweetcake warming on the stone shelf in the hearth, and it smelled delicious. Well, she _did_ say to help themselves, so he took a knife from the table and sliced a small serving.

A few minutes later, Kielanai came back down alone, dressed in a comfortable, green brocade dress. She smiled seeing him eating some of the cake and took up the knife to cut herself a slice as well. "Therana's changing the linens. She'll be back down in a moment. Is it good?"

"Very." He moved behind Kielanai as she tasted the warm bread. "Although I think I'm going to snore very loudly tonight just to piss you off."

Kielanai chuckled as she licked her fingers. "Therana's a fun personality. Don't take anything we say personally. I met her in Imperial City when I lived in Weye. We used to be good friends, but then she moved here, so I don't see her as much."

"You've told her all about your travels?"

"Yes, definitely. She especially likes hearing about the different types of men that I meet in the places I visit. She teaches archery and doesn't go far beyond the city walls, so we have this little joke between us. When I find a good man, I'm to bring him to her so she doesn't have to waste her time with fools. Unfortunately, I can't figure out what kind of man you are yet, but she's quite pleased with you because you're so uncommon. You might want to sleep in that armor tonight." She tried not to smile in amusement with her warning.

"I'm guessing the lost amulet isn't hers, then, if she doesn't travel to Bruma." He took a step closer and lowered his voice, speaking behind her ear. "I wonder which of your many friends it _does_ belong to. Must be someone important since you want the missing item returned as soon as possible ... like I want someone important to me returned as soon as possible. What are you not telling me about the amulet, Kielanai?"

The willowy gold elf's smile faded. This again. "Persistent, aren't you? I did say you were focused."

"You promised me an explanation."

The bard moved closer to the hearth, as if the fire was friendlier than whatever she was seeing in her mind. "Do you swear upon your sister's soul that you will not repeat what I am about to tell you?"

He was quiet for a moment, as if reading the fine print on a legal document. "I give you my word."

Though it was nothing concrete and binding, she sensed enough sincerity in that to ease her doubt. "That amulet belonged to someone of much more importance than any of my friends," she answered in a soft voice. "It's called the Amulet of Kings." She faced him to see if he was able to figure the rest of it out on his own, based on what she had already told him.

It didn't take him long. "The amulet belonged to the Emperor."

"I witnessed his murder," she whispered. "He fell to the assassins, right before my eyes."

The dark elf quirked a white brow in skepticism. "You were present when it happened?"

"I told you I'd been jailed for trespassing on the pirate's ship." Her eyes glanced toward the stairs to make sure Therana didn't come in on their conversation. "While I was in jail, the Emperor and his personal guard used my cell to escape from the assassins. I followed and saw them get ambushed."

She became nervous with her confession. "He gave me his amulet and told me to deliver it to a priest who would pass it to his only remaining heir. Jauffre accepted the amulet, but told me to go find the heir in Kvatch. When I arrived, daedra were attacking the city from an Oblivion Gate that had appeared there, but Martin wouldn't leave until he knew the town was safe."

"Martin being the illegitimate heir ..." He pieced her previous information together.

"I volunteered to go into the gate with a small unit of foot soldiers ... to find some missing men who went in before us ... to find a way to shut the gate down." The terrifying experience was obviously to blame for the bard's paralyzing fear around those gates.

Daerazal was more interested in the fate of the amulet than hearing another story about the invasion of Kvatch, but he felt it was necessary to pry further, since it still affected her now. He moved to stand beside her at the fire and looked her in the eye. "What happened to you in Oblivion, Kielanai?"

She balked at answering and turned away to stare into the fire. "Some tales should never be told. You bring them back to life by remembering."

The Drow waited in silence while she struggled to open the vault that contained her worst nightmares.

Then, the bard drew a breath and began her tale.


	7. Chapter 7: Spider's Bane

Chapter 7: Spider's Bane

Kielanai turned toward the hearth and stared into the flames until the planes of Oblivion unfolded before her mind's eye once more. "The sky was blood red; the tower interiors, nearly pitch black. The plants were poisonous ... carnivorous." She grasped her own wrist, remembering how she had to hack her way free from a harrada vine.

"The heat from the lava was suffocating, and the air smelled of sulfur ... burnt flesh. Corpses of the damned hung all over the place and decapitated heads marked the crossroads, but some tortured souls had been kept alive and transformed into fleshy wombs. There were daedra and Dremora everywhere. There were traps lining the only passable roads. I was bit, clawed, sliced, burned, poisoned, shocked, and drained no matter which direction I chose. It was ... beyond anything dreamed up in nightmares."

She glanced over her shoulder to see Daerazal's reaction, expecting him to cringe at the horror she described, but his face remained void of emotion. His calm was almost offensive.

The Akaviri-Altmer reminded herself that he had not experienced it first-hand the way she had. "Every piece of armor I wore ended up shredded. And when the Legion soldiers fell beside me, I used their armor to keep going, until that was shredded, too. I used every healing potion and scroll that I carried, even though I was as conservative as I could be with them. Do you understand what I'm saying? There wasn't _one second_ in Oblivion that I wasn't fighting for my life. And there was nowhere to hide, no one to help, and only one way out."

The dark elf leaned a shoulder against the wall near the hearth and folded his arms at his chest, still unmoved, but still listening with interest. "A place of horrors … I get it."

She shook her head and frowned at his immunity. "No. You _don't._ Do you think I'm making this up?"

"No. It's just … familiar. And that kind of atmosphere more strongly affects those who are _less_ familiar. I'm more interested in the one way out."

Kielanai sighed and rubbed the chill from her arms, turning her back to the fire to warm her other side. "There was a stone at the top of the main citadel keeping the gate open, but there was no exiting back through the gate once I entered. The only way to return was to disconnect the sigil stone and disable the gate. With the gate gone, I was thrown back into my own plane. But getting to the stone in the citadel was even more horrifying than having to fight my way across the burning land.

"In the main tower, a Dremora I ran into was so strong he disarmed me with a single blow and threw me backwards down the stairs. I've been hit pretty hard before, but not like this. I wasn't fortunate enough to lose consciousness so that he could kill me. No ..." She shook her head as she retold her fate. "I was just alert enough to realize how helpless I was. I couldn't see anything, my arms and legs went numb. And for the first time in my life, I was more afraid of survival than death. I knew that if I didn't kill him, I would end up like one of those tortured souls serving as flesh bags or bone markers. That's the only thing that kept me going.

"I groped in the dark for my katana because I couldn't bear the thought of that monster claiming it. That sword belonged to my grandfather, and my mother gave it to Gwenyth to defend our escape from Akaviri Kojima. Gwenyth returned it to me when I was old enough to pass basic sword training. Anyway, I couldn't find my sword, but I think I threw an ice spell into the Dremora's face when he came to take me. I don't remember much about the fight because I wasn't very coherent, but I did manage to get his sword, instead. When he finally went down, I cast a light spell and found my grandfather's katana at the bottom of the stairs. It was broken and useless—which is exactly how I felt at that point."

The dark elf reached for his wine and took a few sips as he drank in the details of the bard's tale. He dare not interrupt because the fight in her mind wasn't over yet.

"I found the captive Kvatch soldiers who went in before us. They had been caged and tortured, but they were still alive. While looking for a way to free them, I also found the sigil stone that generated the magic to hold open the gate." The elf faced the fire once more and turned her palms toward the warmth, losing herself in thought for a moment, as if seeing a sigil stone within its mesmerizing embers.

"Just before I reached out to grab it, I remembered the captive soldiers, but ... I froze. I couldn't bear the thought of running back through that horror to get them, when my only chance out was within arm's reach." Her aqua-colored eyes filled with moisture and closed with shame at the confession. Her arms folded across her heart, as if clutching the stone to her chest and holding on for dear life. Fists clenched with white-knuckled strength remembering the fiery blast that took her breath away the moment she laid claim to the stone's magic.

"I nearly collapsed from overwhelming despair over what to do. That's what Oblivion is—_hopelessness itself_. If the magical force from shutting the gate down hadn't blasted me back to Kvatch with a teleport spell, I wouldn't have had the will to come back at all. I'd still be standing there … undecided whether to save my own life or theirs." Pausing to wipe a moist eye, she felt nothing like the confident dancer that had performed in the tavern just hours earlier. "After I returned to Kvatch, I tried to save the count from the remaining daedra ... but I couldn't help him either. I wasn't fast enough. His body was being mauled by several large daedroth just as I arrived.

"They called me a hero for closing the gate. But I let all those people die_." _Tears trickled down her cheeks in spite of her efforts to stem the flow. "I couldn't go back for them. I just _couldn't_ go back. Now I see their terror-stricken faces in those cages … see them eviscerated on the floor … every time I see one of those hell gates. I'm a bard, not a hero. My job is to sing and tell stories. They should never have asked me to do something like that. And now Martin and Jauffre are trusting me to get the amulet back?" She shook her head at the impossibility of their faith.

"Closing the gates to the Abyss is not a bard's job," Daerazal agreed. "But you did what you had to do. _More_ people would have died if you _hadn't _tried to help. Those people died because of the gate ... not because of you."

She looked up, irritated that he was trying to make her feel better about it. "I live _only_ because of them. They got me to the stone, yet I did nothing to help them escape."

"They were warriors. They knew the price of their profession. Accept their sacrifice without pitying them, or you belittle what they did to save you and their town," he answered in a reprimanding tone.

The bard buried her face in her hands.

))((

The Drow thoughtfully rubbed a thumb over the stem of his silver goblet. Trying to reason logically with the bard wouldn't work. Her heart was too embedded in it. And though he felt completely inept in such matters, he knew her heart had to heal for her to be of any use in Akavir. "Do you still have the sigil stone?"

Kielanai wiped the tears from her eyes. "It's tucked away in a drawer. Why?"

"Those stones ... They're raw magic, you know. They can be used to make magic items ... including portals to other worlds."

"I guess that's why it was used to make the Oblivion gate, then."

"Show your sigil stone to Chizrae when we find her," he quietly advised.

Kielanai sniffled and finished drying her eyes, but she was puzzled. "Does she enchant items?"

"No ... but she's been to Oblivion. You should talk to her. It's better if she explains why."

The bard looked as if she was wondering what the Nerevarine was doing in Oblivion.

Dragging a chair from the table, Daerazal flipped it around backwards to face the hearth and seated himself in a straddled position. "If the gates can be shut down by removing their sigil stones, why can't the Blades just send in stronger armies to do that?"

Kielanai shook her head. "Because it's futile. Oblivion gates will continue to open until an heir of the Dragonborn lights the Dragon Fires with the Amulet of Kings once more. Their effort is better spent watching over Martin and keeping him safe."

"_Iblith,"_ he softly cursed as he rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. There was no way around it. The Empire had to come first, even if the Empire might have been responsible for endangering his sister. "Why in all nine hells didn't you tell me _which _amulet we were after before now?"

"Because it would be very easy for you to take the amulet to anti-Imperial Ashlanders and leak the location of the heir to someone who would rather see him dead. I only wanted you to help me reclaim it; I didn't intend for you to help me deliver it. I was going to ask you to wait elsewhere, until I could place that amulet safely in Martin's hands."

"Where is the heir now?" he asked, beginning to lose patience with this situation.

"Will you protect him, or will you betray him?"

The Drow's crimson eyes narrowed. "_Where_ is he?"

"_Will _you _protect_ him?" the Akaviri-Altmer demanded. "Cyrodiil is _not_ the only province that will be made to suffer if anything happens to the Emperor's heir."

"And Morrowind will not be the only province to suffer if the Nerevarine does not convince the Ashlanders and traditional houses to back away from war," Daerazal reminded her.

"If Morrowind declares war against Cyrodiil to break free from the Empire, we will at least have _land_ under our feet to rebuild. If Cyrodiil falls to Mehrunes Dagon, he could destroy the _entire world_," she stubbornly argued.

"And yet you didn't think that was _important enough_ to mention with your request for help finding the amulet?" he angrily countered.

"I was damned if I asked you to help and damned if I didn't. But whatever threat Morrowind holds toward the throne, right now our priority is getting Martin Septim to light those Dragon Fires!"

Daerazal calmed his rising tension, but remained persistent. "I will do what I can to protect the heir _as long as _he can _prove_ the Empire had nothing to do with my sister's disappearance. Now _where_ is he?"

Kielanai sighed in resignation at this stalemate. "Cloud Ruler Temple ... a secluded Akaviri fortress just north of Bruma. He's being heavily guarded by his Blades, so he's relatively safe … for now."

"Akaviri?" Daerazal didn't like the sound of that. "Why would the heir of Tamriel be protected in an Akaviri stronghold?"

"The temple was built a long time ago when an Akaviri potentate ruled Tamriel for a short time. It's a stronghold for the Blades now. When I return the amulet ... I'll ask Martin and Jauffre if they know anything about the Nerevarine's disappearance, okay?"

The Drow snorted at the proffered compromise. "_I'll_ be the one to ask any questions about Chizrae. You may pride yourself on being nicer and more noble than me, but your tongue is amazingly agile at skirting around the truth when it suits you. In fact, since you allowed me to think we were after an ordinary amulet, I'll bet there's more to the petty thieves who stole it, as well. Who am I _really_ going to have to fight to get it back?"

The bard defensively folded her arms at her waist. "When I returned to the priory, it was ambushed by the same group of assassins responsible for the death of the Emperor. They're members of the Mythic Dawn, a cult that worships Mehrunes Dagon. Their shrine is located in a cavern on a lake." She side-stepped to her backpack and dug into it for a tattered map that had served her well over the years. "We believe that's where they are holding the amulet. I intended to explain what you needed to know about the thieves after we arrived in Bruma."

"But you failed to mention that we were stealing the amulet from an _entire_ Daedric cult when we shook hands on this little deal." Daerazal took the map as she pointed to the circled rocks.

"I'm sorry, alright? Maybe I should have given you more information from the start, but I didn't want to unintentionally aid some plot from Morrowind to assassinate the only remaining heir. I probably shouldn't even be telling you now, but I need your help as much as you need mine."

"Can you see in the dark?"

"I can cast a minor light spell."

"Light will reveal our location—not a wise choice, if we intend to steal something."

"I know how to mix Nighteye potions if we need them, but I don't intend to stay in the shadows. I know the secret phrase used by those who wish to join the cult, so we can pretend to be new acolytes. We'll go in, look for the amulet, then slip out."

"And if they catch you snooping?"

"I'll improvise."

"You'll die," he bluntly countered.

Kielanai shrugged with shame. "You're probably right, but that's why I haven't gone after the amulet before now. If it's a shrine to Mehrunes Dagon, there might be another Oblivion gate in there." She met his gaze with full remorse. "I've been hoping the Blades would get tired of waiting on me and handle it themselves because I don't think I can survive something like that again. But I guess they've been waiting on me, just like I've been waiting on them. That's probably why there's so many gates now."

Daerazal folded an arm across the back of the chair. "I can see in the dark without potions, and I'm used to finding my way through unfamiliar caverns. Tell me what the amulet looks like, and I'll get it for you."

The bard's lips parted in astonishment. "I have no intention of asking you to do this alone."

"Chizrae and Talvalo can't afford to lose you," he answered, standing to tuck the map into his own pack. "If I don't survive, you can always hire a mercenary to help you reach Seyda Neen. Until then, I've given you my word that my sword is at your service and I will stand by it ... _Milady_." He gave a semi-sarcastic bow before walking past her to get another glass of wine.

"Alright, I can't blame you for being angry." She was somewhat disappointed. "But even after I've told you what's at stake, you're still more concerned about keeping your word than saving the Empire?"

"My word is the only thing I trust. I certainly can't trust the Empire, and now I can't trust you."

Her brows sharply drew together. "I happen to be a very trustworthy person. I may have withheld information, but I have _never_ lied to you. Besides, you've done the same thing to me. You withheld your intentions from me concerning that Orc thief."

"Hm, I guess you've got a point there," he agreed without apology. "Guess that means I didn't trust you even before knowing the truth about the amulet. Bards are too full of surprises … like spies."

Kielanai blinked at him with disbelief and then folded her arms in disgust. "You truly are _ronin_."

"Let's see ... if you mean I'm undisciplined, you're wrong. I trained and served as a warrior all my life—battle captain and blades specialist for my House. If you mean I was deserted by my weapons master, you're right. He was killed—had his heart cut out when he was accused of treason. If you mean I have no honor, well, that's just _your_ opinion."

She moved to stand before him as he drank the rest of his wine. "Then by all means let me share the rest of my opinions. Sometimes you seem as loyal, intelligent, and considerate toward others as any noble knight, and that makes me feel like I made the right choice agreeing to work with you. But most of the time you're just a rude, backwoods fighter who's only concerned with self-interests. You may be out to save your sister, but it's because _you_ want her back—just like you turned in that Orc because _you _wanted revenge. Now the only reason you're agreeing to help me find the Amulet of Kings is so that you can use it to grill, or maybe even blackmail, Martin Septim concerning your own affairs. If all Dunmer were like you, I would be at a complete loss as to why Cyrodiil ever wanted to add Morrowind to the Empire."

"Spoken like a typically arrogant Altmer." He set down his wine goblet and unbuckled the heavy cuirass he had been wearing all day.

"You showed up out of nowhere with a suspicious request at a time when the Empire is very vulnerable, and that makes me feel like I'm stupid to be telling you anything." Kielanai frowned more deeply. "Let me ask you something. If you were me ... would _you_ trust you?"

Daerazal was thoughtful for a moment. "No."

His honesty surprised her. "Why not?"

"Trust should be earned ... just like honor." He pulled the cuirass off and dropped it to the floor with a noisy clang to begin untying his pauldrons.

The bard shook her head. "Unbelievable. You just proved my point. No self-serving slug would say something like that. I don't understand you, Daerazal. I truly don't. And that, I suppose, is what worries me most of all." Distraught over where her careless choices had led her now, Kielanai moved to the chair and sat down in a sullen mood.

He removed his shoulder guards and dropped them to the floor with his cuirass. His loose shirt underneath was still damp with rain, so removal of the heavy armor caused him to chill slightly. After staring at the discarded life-saving gear of his trade for a moment, he lifted his chin and met her gaze with sincerity. "If it makes you feel any better, I _do_ come from a noble house. I was educated in all the protocol of my station as battle captain and Elderboy, so I _do_ know how to bow properly to the politics of the people above me ... if I have to. I was also granted informal status of knighthood based on vows that I made to a certain goddess, so I don't make or take promises lightly. If I give you my word ... I will back it up with my life. For the sake of trying to work together, though, don't dig too deeply beyond that trying to analyze me."

A small smile touched her lips. "Elderboy? That's an unusual title. Are you a count's son?"

"I was the only son of Matron Sevlessa Velve'Xukuth. Not that it meant anything to her, but at least my position as first son was uncontested."

She was quick to catch his verb of choice. "_Was_?"

He held up a finger to remind her not to dig further. Then, he bent to remove his boots and loosen the ties on his greaves.

"Can I ask a question that doesn't relate to you, then? Was your weapons master really guilty of treason?"

The Drow paused and looked up, reluctant to say much about what led to his trainer's demise. "Jereassien made an unwise decision ... but he was not guilty of treason. He was not the one who destroyed House Velve'Xukuth."

"There's that word again … 'was'_ ..._ Your House is no more?"

The dark elf met her gaze, but this time he was tight-lipped. He could tell the bard was curious to hear the rest of his story—for real this time, rather than for the sake of a game. But her eyes drifted past his shoulder to movement on the stairs. He turned to see what she was looking at.

Therana was returning from changing the linens, and she was grinning from ear to ear, as if completely oblivious to the somber mood that had permeated the room in her absence. "Oh my! Looks like I'm too late to show you where to put away your armor. Then again, maybe I'm just in time. Or if I'd waited five minutes, maybe I would have walked in on something even better." She gave the warrior a wry smile before stooping to pick up his pauldrons. "I can hang that shirt by the fire for you, if you like."

Tolerant of the Dunmer's attention, he slipped the shirt over his head and passed it to her.

Therana put a hand to her mouth to speak to her friend in a not-so-hushed voice. "You were right. This is a _very good_ time of day."

The bard chuckled and gave up her chair as her shameless friend draped the damp shirt across the back to warm by the fire.

"You really do need to bring her a man," the _ronin_ whispered to Kielanai before bending to pick up the rest of his armor from the floor. Then, he followed the other dark elf up the stairs to deposit his armor in one of the guest rooms.

))((

The next day, as promised, Kielanai was ready to take the plunge and begin the long journey to Bruma. They had their armor repaired and their weapons recharged. And after selling as much of their extra weight as they could afford to spare, they followed the Red Ring Road north, up through the Great Forest and then east into the Heartlands. Along the way, they drew the attention of more bears, cougars, and bandits. In spite of the occasional appearance of Legion soldiers riding leisurely along the road ahead or behind them, they had to handle the treacherous attacks all by themselves.

"Not a bit of help from that Imperial _escort_ ahead of us," Daerazal remarked as he checked the pockets of the latest marauder that tried to bash in his skull. "I think he's conveniently not hearing what's happening behind him."

"Well, he simply won't get a share of the treasure."

"Ten septims and a gem. Wonder how much that's worth." He passed a sapphire to Kielanai.

"It's pretty scratched. I'm not much for appraisals, but it's probably not worth as much as that." Kielanai pocketed the gem and picked up the enchanted ebony war hammer to admire its design. "I'll bet this is worth a pretty coin. Too bad it's incredibly heavy."

"There's room in my pack." the dark elf took the item and stuffed it into his magical sack. It was beginning to reach its limit on space in spite of its ability to hold more weight. "Or maybe we should tie it to the ass of that horse the next time our Legion buddy stops along the road for a piss—a hint that he's missing all the fun."

Kielanai grinned at his sarcasm. In spite of all the entertaining she had been doing at the taverns along the way, not once had she been able to crack a laugh out of the dark elf at her side. This, she decided, would be a worthy challenge to lighten the mood a little on the next leg of their journey. Instead of trying to figure him out, she would try to make him laugh. "Let's do it." The bard took the war hammer back.

"I was kidding."

"I know, but what's the harm?"

He blinked, stupefied. "He could throw us in jail, that's what."

"He wouldn't throw us in jail for a joke."

"He would if it slowed his horse."

Kielanai scoffed with a wave of her hand. "Like that horse could get any slower."

Daerazal gave up trying to change her mind since she seemed so pleased with herself about this prank. He simply retied his sack and hooked it back over his shoulder to continue their journey. "Worse than Talvalo." he muttered.

"Talvalo? He didn't use to be one for pranks."

"Thankfully."

Kielanai's brows knit in confusion for a moment wondering what he meant by that comparison, but then she shrugged it off and smiled in spite of it. "It will make a fun story to tell him when we arrive."

"Talvalo won't be in the mood for fun stories. He's too worried."

"I meant Martin. He seems like the kind of person that could use a fun story to lighten his burdens. But pirates can have a good sense of humor, too. He's a pirate, you know."

Daerazal glanced toward her with doubt. "Martin?"

"Talvalo," she corrected again. "The last time I saw him, he confessed he was sailing among pirates on sea near Solstheim. I guess he thought I'd find that ironic somehow."

"Well, now he's stuck in the swamps of Seyda Neen."

"Doesn't mean he's lost his sense of humor. Oh! Look!" The bard grabbed her companion's arm to stop him as the soldier ahead of them dismounted his steed and disappeared down the side of the road into the shrub. Kielanai grinned so big that her almond-shaped eyes nearly squinted shut. Then, she shed her noisy boots, passing them to the dark elf, and hurried to the rear of the horse.

The horse's ears turned backwards, clearly aware of her presence, but the soldier was out of sight and hearing range. Hiding on the far-side of the horse, she untied one of the saddlebag straps and lashed the head of the heavy hammer toward the back of the horse's rump. After whispering calming words of apology to the animal, she scurried back to where Daerazal was standing.

Then, Kielanai grabbed the dark elf's arm to lead him off the side of the road behind some shrubs to pull her boots back on and wait for the soldier's return. Though the horse already seemed annoyed at the hammer swaying lightly against its hind legs and under its feet, the legion guard did not see it. He mounted his steed as usual and proceeded on his patrol unaware of the change. Kielanai pulled Daerazal out of hiding and followed, careful to stay a good distance behind the patrol so they could watch.

It didn't take long before the horse began to protest by trying to walk around or over the obstacle with sporadic stopping and starting bursts, instead of obeying his rider's direction. The Legion guard became irritated at the stubborn animal and began to scold it with strings of obscenities ... until he spotted the war hammer being dragged underfoot. Lifting his chin toward the two travelers in the distance behind him, he shouted the next string of obscenities at them. Untying the burdensome weapon, he cast it aside. Then, shaking a surly fist at them, he remounted and rode ahead.

Kielanai laughed, but the dark elf beside her still didn't reward her prank with anything more than a smirk. "Oh, come on, admit it. That was funny."

"It was funny," he agreed.

"But you're not laughing."

"I'm laughing on the inside."

Kielanai chuckled. "No, you're not. You're being smug again. Ah! I know something that will make you laugh—limericks."

He winced. "Limericks? Seriously?"

"There was a young man from Pale Pass, who had a magnificent ass; not rounded and pink, as you probably think. It was grey, had long ears, and ate grass." She finished the limerick with a grin.

The Drow quirked a white brow of skepticism in response.

"Right, I should have changed the man to a maiden ... though Therana would have enjoyed that version. And I probably could have changed the color of her bottom ... although that wouldn't have rhymed. Sorry. Okay, so that wasn't very funny. But I _do_ know some funny jokes; they're just funnier in the right atmosphere and this long, boring road is not ..."

Just ahead of them, where their route forked north, molten lava could be heard rumbling, hissing, and cracking as it cooled into black stone. Another shimmering Oblivion gate rose up out of the ground on a steep, rocky slope near the shoulder of the road. Trees near the talon-portal suddenly became engulfed in flames, clouds darkened, and lightning flashed across the sky.

Both travelers stopped in their tracks. Daerazal checked Kielanai's sudden silence.

An enormous two-legged crocodile creature advanced out of the gate toward the Legion guard. Blocking the road, the demon forced him to abandon his ride to fight.

Kielanai gasped and drew her katana. "This is my fault. If he hadn't had to stop and untie the hammer, he could've escaped. We have to help him!"

"No. We've got our own problems." Daerazal drew his black adamantine sword from its sheath and waited a second for the red glow of destructive magic to burn from its spider-shaped crosspiece and ruby crested hilt all the way down the enchanted runes to its tip.

Kielanai glanced back toward the Legion guard with worry, but when she checked her partner's position once more, he was already down the slope out of her sight. "Daerazal!" She ran after him, but stopped short when she saw how close he was to the gate itself ... and the giant daedric spider that must have slid through the hazy portal at the same time as the daedroth.

The daedric spider had already climbed half-way up the slope and was heading straight for them, but the size and ferocity of this half-woman, half-demon creature spitting lightning and venom at the dark elf didn't seem to shake him in the least. He ran straight for it, forcing it to back down and away as it tried to keep enough space between them to cast some magic. "He's crazy," she spoke to herself, not daring to get between them. "Absolutely stark-raving mad ..."

The spider demon conjured a smaller spider demon, then cast a long-reaching chain of lightning at him. Daerazal lifted his shield to absorb it, but the fact that he still felt the shock was visible in his grimace. The spider zipped backwards and sideways, anticipating the retaliation of the enchanted sword, but the dark elf relentlessly followed, completely ignoring the smaller spider at his feet that was trying to ensnare and paralyze him with sticky webbing.

Kielanai felt that she should have been helping, but their movement was so fast and aggressive in an ever-changing circle of parries and lunges that the possibility of accidentally hitting her companion became more frightening than the beast itself.

The daedric spider gave up on trying to cast spells and sprang into his face with physical force, sharp claws, and a venomous bite. Its claws tore through his shield, raking across his cheek, throat, and armor. Having caught the spider demon's arm in the punctured shield, Daerazal released it. The larger spider was outraged, but temporarily occupied trying to pry its arm free. The dark elf turned his blade on the smaller spider and the webbing that threatened to trap him.

"Give me your sword!" he called to Kielanai, when he spotted her standing nearby, frozen and speechless.

Her sword? Kielanai looked down at her katana. She had the urge to back him up, rather than surrendering her blade, but she ran past the spider to transfer her hilt into his empty left hand he held wide behind himself.

"Get back!" he warned as soon as his fingers closed around it. His adamantine sword took only a second to relight with its dire magic. His left hand had only a second to get a feel for the weight and balance of the unfamiliar katana. But as soon as she turned to dodge out of his way, he crouched then struck out with a left-handed sweep into the free arm of the larger spider. The crippling cut was immediately followed by a right-handed sweep into the smaller spider, ending his battle with it.

Daerazal's longsword was now draped in sticky web-silk and gore, but the magic of the sword dissolved it with an acidic hiss, preventing it from being weighed down or dulled. The larger spider's snake-like tongue flecked green venom from its long, slender fangs, and it sprung forward to slam the warrior with his own shield. He braced himself to stand his ground and quickly raised both blades to intercept, but not in a frontal assault the way the spider expected. Swinging both blades to his upper left, he switched his hold and angle on the longsword and sharply drew both blades to the right, one slightly ahead of the other like teeth on a saw. The adamantine longsword bit hard and deep, at a downward angle inside the spider's remaining arm, severing it and the shield completely from the body, while the slightly lower katana sliced into the spider's human-shaped waist in the same angled manner.

It was obvious that the daedric spider's fight had come to an end when the longsword suddenly reversed motion to slice into the creature's waist from the opposite side, as well. Blood and bile backed up into her throat to drip from her crimson lips as she looked down at the black and white blades embedded beneath both sides of her ribcage. She met her killer's gaze with a harsh, defiant hiss and made one final snatch toward his face. But in one simultaneous cut to free both swords, the spider daedra's torso lay cleaved in half at Daerazal's feet.

Only then did the dark elf come out of his bloodlust to catch his breath and lower his weapons.

With stunned caution, the bard stared at the messy remains. She had seen him battle a variety of wild animals and bandits, but there were no words to describe what she had witnessed here. He wouldn't have been satisfied with a simple stab to the heart. His passion had been that of a macabre artist. The Oblivion-tarnished hillside was his canvas. And the spider's blood was his paint. She lifted her eyes to meet his, unsure whether she should say what was on her mind.

"I _hate_ driders," he snarled with contempt, offering her bloodied katana back to her.

She hesitantly accepted the blade, but did not sheathe it because the gate still loomed large before them. Something else could come through it at any minute. "Driders?"

Daerazal retrieved his shield. "It's what they call the cursed half-spider creatures where I come from. It's best that they be disposed of in a manner that will not allow them to come back from the dead. It's what this blade was made for ... sort of. It's made with a spider venom enchantment, among others."

His explanation gave Kielanai an idea. Casting a nervous glance to the Oblivion gate, she pulled her dagger and forced herself to kneel over the spider-woman's throat to cut away the venom pouches. "I might be able to use this to make poison for our blades." She pocketed the bloody pulp and cut away some of the silk webbing that wrapped around his legs during the fight. Then, together they ran up the steep incline back to the road to put as much distance as possible between them and the blazing portal.

Up on the road, the Legion soldier, having finished off the daedroth, cast them an irritated glance. Mounting his steed once more, he continued his journey without so much as a word of thanks for the dark elf's help taking on the second demon.


	8. Chapter 8: No Error No Pity

Chapter 8: No Error, No Pity

Fleeing from the ominous magic and demonic spawn of the Oblivion gate, Kielanai and Daerazal sprinted up the steadily increasing altitude of the Jerral Mountains. Though the sky had turned grayish-blue a couple of miles behind them, the bard was desperate to reach the safety of Bruma as soon as possible. She continued to run until her legs literally gave way beneath her. Behind her, the warrior was quick to crouch low to the ground and redistribute his own body weight to break her fall and prevent her from skidding further. A few loose rocks scattered and rolled down the steep road behind them, but most of the ground had become frozen solid.

"Just let me rest. Just for a minute," Kielanai finally begged through misty, labored attempts to catch her breath.

Just as winded and fighting to keep his own precarious foothold, Daerazal scanned the surrounding area to see if it was safe. He had not been the one to push her through the marathon distance at such a pace; she had been her own punisher. But he kept pace without complaint because he was anxious to gain as much distance as possible for the day's journey. Now, with their abrupt stop, he realized that the deciduous forest around them had given way to evergreens, and the wind had picked up with a light dusting of flurries.

They had made good progress by running, but it became very apparent to him that ice on these serpentine roads could be more of a threat than wild animals. Their light armor could offer no protection against that. "Just for a minute," he agreed ... but something didn't feel right. "That Legion soldier and his horse are nowhere in sight now, but there's nowhere they could have turned off the path into the wilderness safely unless the road is more level up ahead."

"On horseback, he would run faster than us. He's probably already in Bruma by now."

"Not on this icy rock," the warrior disagreed, straightening himself behind her. Yet ahead of them in the snow was the obvious evidence otherwise—tracks in the snow. The tracks weren't clean, though. Daerazal moved ahead of her and crouched to inspect them. "Long streaks ... close together at the same time ... The horse was skiddish and slid."

Kielanai wrinkled her nose. "Maybe it was frightened that it couldn't run well on the ice." The bard was trying to grip the ground enough to square herself securely on her hands and knees. She was so tired she didn't seem to care that she was now sitting in the middle of the road for her rest break.

Daerazal continued up the road and rounded the corner to find a large sweeping of cleared snow and the body of a dead horse. It had died recently enough that steam was rising from the warmth of its body, and the snow had melted around it. "Or maybe it was just plain frightened," he muttered, though she wasn't close enough to hear him. But where was the rider?

The tracks here were difficult to read because an obvious fight had stirred the snow. The Drow glanced over his shoulder toward the Akaviri-Altmer. He could still see her sitting in the middle of the road. Everything about the area seemed at peace, except for this. So he turned off the road and followed the Legion soldiers tracks with caution, hoping to eliminate the threat before it claimed another victim.

Stealth was nearly impossible in the crunchy snow and underbrush, but the Drow employed as much caution as possible, keeping behind trees and observing fine details about his surroundings before proceeding as he followed the Legionnaire's tracks.

In the woods off the side of the road, Daerazal finally came within sight of his prey—or rather something else's prey. The Legion soldier's fresh remains was gruesome at best. The damage resembled his own handiwork on the daedric spider earlier, but no sword had delivered this man's death. He had been crushed and torn apart by force—by something that could grasp with human-like hands, rather than claws or teeth.

After a moment of studying the damage, the Drow realized what probably stalked the forest here. He had seen his share of them in the Underdark and had once driven them as slaves. Ogres never took a subtle approach to hunting, yet this one was currently nowhere in sight. And the only thing he could think of that would lure a greedy ogre to abandon a fresh kill before eating it was the possibility of another one.

"Kielanai ..." The dark elf turned and ran back the way that he came, hoping he was not too late.

))((

Kielanai had seen Daerazal draw his black spider sword once more and veer off the side of the road beyond the bend, but she couldn't see what he was tracking. She had come to realize by now that when he moved ahead of her like that, it meant he was suspicious of a nearby danger ... and he was usually right. Another Oblivion gate? Her eyes lifted toward the sky. No, only snow clouds there. "Daerazal?"

When he didn't answer, the bard became irritated and nervous. Why did he insist on heading straight into combat when it could often be avoided? "Daerazal! If you want me to stop side-tracking to taverns, you need to stop side-tracking after every beastie that comes within an arrow's range! Do you hear me? Sometimes it's best to let sleeping dogs lie!"

He still didn't answer, though. Of _course_ he didn't answer. He was probably already moving in on said-beastie. The bard sighed heavily at her partner's aggressive tendencies, stood, and forced her tired legs to push onward in the direction he had gone.

Almost as suddenly as the Oblivion gate had sprung up before them, a mass of gray, rock-like muscle dropped to the ground from the cliff above her. The ogre slammed a fist into a boulder on the side of the road to crumble it like a cookie and cut off her escape. Then, he roared and smashed his fist into the rock wall on the roadside again. The bard was too taken by surprise to even scream.

She could see Daerazal climbing over the rocks, then leaping down from them, landing awkwardly between them. At least, he seemed to realize the giant creature could crush his skull in one hand without any effort from the other, so instead of immediately fighting back, he kept his eyes on those powerful fists and concentrated on dodging each powerful swipe. "Kielanai, run ahead!"

Out of habit at hearing those words, Kielanai darted around them and ran for the crumbled rocks, but half-way up the landslide, she stopped and scolded herself. This was not an Oblivion gate. Why was she running? Ogres were dumb as sticks. Surely there was a way to outwit it, even if they couldn't out-muscle it.

The bard turned back around just in time to see the ogre strike a direct hit to Daerazal's chest, knocking him flat on his back several feet away. With a gasp, she remembered that his shield was useless, and his armor had already been weakened by the fight with the daedric spider. And she knew first-hand of the internal damage those kinds of hits could deliver under good, heavily armored conditions. It was the same kind of hit the dremora had dealt to her on the stairs in the Oblivion Citadel.

))((

Gasping in pain as he tried to draw his breath, Daerazal mentally cursed himself for overestimating his abilities around an ogre that had not been previously cowered into Drow servitude. A cold, dark, distant feeling began creeping over him, but he fought to remain alert. His sword ... he still had his sword. He could feel its spindle-legged crosspiece beneath his fingers on the ground.

"Get away from him!" Kielanai yelled at the ogre's back as she skidded back down the rocks, picked one up, and threw it at the back of the monster's head.

Though her pitch hit the target with quite an impact, the ogre's skull was thick enough that it bounced off like a mere pebble. He completely ignored her and reached for the fallen warrior to finish him off.

"Hey, Ugly! Over here!" The bard taunted. Summoning her fire magic, she threw a flaming ball squarely against the ogre's shoulder blades.

The ogre cried out in pain as the fire burned the flesh on his back, but his resistance to magic meant the injury was minor. He still chose to ignore her attack and grabbed Daerazal's arm to pull him apart.

"Are you deaf? Never turn your back on a lady when she's trying to talk to you!" Kielanai quickly summoned another ball of flames, aiming this one at his loincloth. The old, rotting cloth combusted at once and continued to burn, rather than dissipating with the spell. _That_ got his attention.

The ogre swatted urgently at his skirt of flames, trying to douse the threat. Then, he turned and charged toward the gold elf, clearly intending to snap her in half like a twig.

Daerazal squinted at what was happening and rolled to his side, pulling his knees underneath himself. Trying to remain conscious, he grasped the ruby encrusted hilt and checked its energy charge. Spider Bite … The blade's soul gem was very weak. It had only a few more enchanted strikes left. He had to make them count.

The bard scaled the rocks again to get out of reach of the enraged ogre. But when he came close enough to grasp her leg, she used the other one to convince him to set her free. "Let ... go ... of ... me!" she ordered, emphasizing each word with a boot heel to his face. It worked. But before she could get completely beyond his reach, he grabbed her long, silver hair and jerked her back to the ground. While she was down, he grabbed her by the waist and threw her into the wall of rocks like a rag doll.

The warrior's eyes narrowed on the ogre as he managed to stand. He couldn't trust his body to move fast enough to deliver a killing blow just yet, but he had to interrupt the attempt to kill the other elf as soon as possible. Though it wasn't a normal Drow approach to battle, he decided to follow the bard's example and make a lot of noise.

With a loud, menacing growl, he lunged forward. The sound warned the ogre he was under attack from behind again, but at least it drew his attention away from the bard. When the ogre turned to meet the challenge, Daerazal aimed several slashes at the brute's hands and arms to keep him at bay and inject the last of Spider Bite's poison into his blood.

The ogre was weakening, but he still hit hard enough to push the dark elf back several feet between each successful cut. Daerazal was certain that if the ogre managed to grab hold of him in any way, he would end up like the Legion soldier. But reaching past those long, thick arms to a more vital spot seemed nearly impossible face-to-face.

Kielanai rose and drew her katana. Positioning it before her like a lance, she charged forward, sinking her blade deep into the ogre's lower back.

The ogre gritted his teeth and clutched a hand to his stomach as the bard's blade pierced him through.

Daerazal immediately took advantage of the unprotected upper torso and thrust his blade up between the ribs, pushing it clear through to the other side. Impatient to bring this fight to an end, the dark elf then viciously twisted the hilt of his enchanted blade to bore a wider hole through his attacker's heart.

When both elves tugged their blades free, the ogre fell to his knees and slumped with one last groan. All was silent now, except for the wind whistling through the narrow passage between the snow-and-ice-covered rocks.

The dark warrior was relieved to see that the fight had not been in vain. His golden bard's luck had prevailed. She had not only survived. She had delivered the first critical hit. Exhausted, Daerazal clutched a hand to his chest where his armor had been dented painfully against flesh.

Kielanai gazed wide-eyed at him. "That was too close."

He winced, but more in response to his injury than her assessment of the battle. "I know."

"No," she corrected and reached for his hand to pull him toward her. "I mean it was _too close_."

Daerazal stepped over the large body and turned to see what she was looking at. His struggle had pushed him close to the edge of a cliff. All of the low-lands of Tamriel lay at their feet. One more step backwards, and he would have fallen to his death down the side of a mountain, regardless of his defense against the ogre.

"You're a mess," she commented, though she herself had suffered several scrapes and bruises. "I should cast some healing spells." She lifted her hand.

The dark elf held up an arm to block her, but sucked air through his teeth with the painful movement. "Heal yourself. I have some potions until I can get out of this armor. Clouds are settling in, and visibility will be cut in half soon. We will need to find level ground to pitch the tent before the snow gets worse. If you're going to take cuttings for reagents, do it quickly. We should keep moving while we still can."

The bard gave a reluctant nod in agreement with his reasoning. Then, she drew her dagger and crouched over the ogre's corpse, preparing to salvage something worthwhile. "Strength is an ogre's main weapon. Muscle strength can decay; bone strength can be preserved. But teeth are the only truly accessible part of an internal skeleton. Gwenyth always said to take the teeth for strength potions."

Daerazal, still clutching his black spider blade, scanned the road, ready to guard her back while she worked, even now. He glanced over his shoulder, clearly in pain, and saw that she was looking up at him. "Quickly," he urged.

Positioning her dagger over the ogre's jawbone, the bard set to work gathering something that would add more _bite_ to her potions.

))((

Around nightfall, the two elves found a flat piece of land beyond the high rocks and low cliffs of the serpentine road going up higher into the mountains. They worked hard to pitch Kielanai's magical tent over the frozen ground as the snow continued to pile up. It wouldn't offer warmth as the temperature continued to dip, but it would give them some protection from the bitter wind.

Daerazal used his minor healing potions to ease the pain of having his armor bashed into his chest, but now that the potions were spent, breathing was becoming difficult. "I think he broke my ribs," the dark elf complained with a grimace as he entered the tent behind the gold elf and began unstrapping the damaged cuirass.

"Well, I'm not much of a healer when it comes to serious injuries, but I can make up for that by mixing potions." She stepped over the discarded armor and opened a crate to pull out her alchemy equipment. "Bruma shouldn't be much further, if you do need a healer, though. One day maybe?"

"How could anyone build a settlement up here in these god-forsaken mountains?" Daerazal sat down on his bedroll and carefully lay back, finally exhaling with relief that the pressure was off of his rib cage. "I'm beginning to think an Oblivion gate would be a welcome sight about now. We could warm ourselves by the fire, and maybe it would melt the ice on the road."

"Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it." Kielanai removed some dried strips of meat and a few herbs from another container.

"At least we have small odds in our favor fighting whatever comes out of those gates. One slip over the edge of this icy road, and we're history. And I've fought ogres before. He shouldn't have been any problem. I should have stayed behind him instead of trying to guard you." He folded his arms over his eyes and tried to ease the pain by releasing the muscle tension around the injured area.

She smiled with humor. "Does that mean you were concerned for me instead of your mission, after all?"

"I put both of us in harm's way because I'm used to them backing down at the very sight of me."

Kielanai chuckled. "Listen to you. You sound more like a Daedric Prince than a puny Dunmer. You actually think the sight of you would frighten an ogre?"

Daerazal frowned. "You don't understand."

"You pulled off the most amazing blade work I've ever seen with that spider this morning, but ogres are like mountains—just as big, just as strong, and just as stupid. Only something bigger, stronger, and more stupid would frighten them. You'd have had better luck trying to frighten that demonic spider."

"I grew up with spiders. Lots of spiders. Spiders are no challenge for me," he muttered. "I know how they move in battle because my weapons master used to train us based on spider tactics. Be still until your prey enters the trap, if possible. Then move in quickly, immobilize it, devour it, and leave its dried husk as a warning to others who invade your territory. That's what I should have done with the ogre instead of confronting it directly."

The bard gave the warrior a questionable glance as she cast a small fire spell under the calcinator and set up the retort. "Lovely strategy. And to think I grew up just wadding their webs on sticks and casting them aside to pick flowers. Speaking of spider silk ..." She knelt beside the crate holding her alchemical ingredients and removed the venom pouches, silk, and ogre teeth from her pocket, placing them into a folded cloth for use later. "Ugh, disgusting ... Now I remember why I wanted to sing and dance in taverns instead of spending my life gathering ingredients for potions. Still, I suppose more than one skill comes in handy at a time like this."

Daerazal watched as she set up the last stage of her brew and chopped a few more ingredients in a larger bowl. "What is that stench?"

Kielanai held up a handful of soaked leaves and herbs wrapped in cheesecloth. "A compress that will help with bruising."

"What happened to your magic?" he complained.

"It's fine, but if your ribs are broken, my magic isn't strong enough to heal something internal like that. This will help until the potion is ready." She crawled toward his bedroll to offer it to him.

He turned his head away and tried to think of an excuse to get out of having the smelly stuff put on him, but he was too tired and in too much pain to fight it. Grunting in discomfort, he lifted the hem of his shirt to expose the torn and bloody wound.

Kielanai's face pinched slightly as she blew on her frozen fingers, trying to warm them enough for casting. "Well, I can at least take down some of the swelling and pain." Placing a hand over the wound, she cast multiple small healing spells, trying to knit the torn skin back together to stop the bleeding. Then, she placed the compress over it.

Turning away, she opened yet another crate and found a spare shirt with fur among her stored clothing. "I have a friend in Bruma who buys animal pelts and turns them into these wonderfully warm things. You're welcome to put this on so the wet compress doesn't make you chill too much."

Daerazal glanced at the shirt with doubt. "I'm not wearing a woman's shirt."

"It's not a woman's shirt. It's just a shirt."

"It's your shirt, isn't it?"

"Yes, but it's not like it has ruffles and lace or anything." Rather than arguing with him about it, she placed it on his bedroll and returned to making her potion.

"It's not the ruffles and lace that worry me." The warrior scowled and turned it over, examining it for any anatomy details that he wouldn't be caught dead with.

Kielanai poured the condensed liquid into a bottle and swirled it to let it cool, but noticed his caution and sighed with exasperation. "Honestly, you're insane enough to run head-first into a fight with monsters bigger than you are, but you're afraid of a woman's shirt. It's not going to neuter you." She stood and grasped another tincture to gradually mix with the first one, still swirling. "However, if it did have ruffles and lace, I think you'd look rather dapper in it."

"_Naut dosib _'dapper' _'sohna_," the Drow protested as he forced himself to sit up and stiffly changed into the warmer, cleaner shirt.

The gold elf quirked a brow at his tone. "What was that?"

"Nothing," he groused.

"Did you switch languages just to say something nasty about me?" She brought the potion to him.

Clutching the smelly compress to his sore ribs under the clean shirt, he stood to accept it. "You would rather I swear in a language you understand? That wouldn't be very _noble_ of me."

She smirked in concession. "My apologies. You're not a typical noble, so I guess I'll need more obvious clues when you're trying to be polite."

He drank down the potion without daring to sniff it. "I'll ...," he coughed and winced with regret, "... try to remember that next time." Passing the empty bottle back, he moved past her to dig some supplies out of his sack.

"You should be lying back down now."

"I need to repair my sword first. The armor was a total loss, but the sword I can't do without."

"Well ... don't make the injury worse. I can only make so many potions before I need to forage for more ingredients, and aloe does not grow in snow." Inching past him in the tight quarters, she pulled some salted venison out of one barrel and an onion out of another. Then, she dug into his pack alongside him to retrieve their previous bundle of fresh food and set what was left of the strawberries in a basket.

Daerazal started to reach for one, but she yanked the basket back and lifted a large strawberry to examine it. After a second or two, she swiped a few more before allowing him to have the remainder. "I just remembered a poison that calls for strawberries. It's a good thing we have some."

He tasted one of the berries with caution as she settled and began chopping an onion. "You're making a poison out of strawberries and onions?"

Kielanai stopped chopping and faced him with a sympathetic pout. " You poor sod. You truly are alchemically ignorant, aren't you. I'm making a _stew_. And if you want any of it, you'd better not confuse my poisons with my cooking."

"I was about to say the same thing." He sat back down on his bedroll with his repair tools.

Kielanai's lips pursed at the retort. "Don't worry. I know exactly which ingredients to put where. For example, horse piss makes excellent healing potions."

In the midst of drawing the cloth down the blade of his sword, Daerazal abruptly paused and looked up.

The bard smiled at his expression and happily continued chopping her onion.

))((

The next morning they donned more layers of pelt clothing and their heavier armor to continue up the mountains. The temperatures were more bitter and the snow came down thicker, but by the following evening they managed to arrive safely in Bruma.

After a short visit to the town's countess to exchange a bag of gems for a cabin that Kielanai had been saving for, Daerazal followed the excited bard back through the snow to unlock the front door. It was a small cabin built in typical rustic Nord-style with bare stone and sturdy wood. But it had a fireplace, a roof, and a bed, so that was all the dark elf cared about.

Now all they needed was firewood and some food, but the sun was already well below the white peaks. That meant the shops would be closing for the day, and the town's two lodges would be filling with diners. Thinking this would be their last civilized stop before reaching Morrowind, and with her savings depleted, Kielanai knew she shouldn't miss the opportunity to perform at both places.

Entrusting her companion with the key to her new home, she asked Daerazal to purchase firewood from the trader. Then, she hurried to the Jerral View Inn.

Jerral View provided the nicest lodgings in town with a spectacular view of the mountains, so it attracted upper class residents and visitors who preferred an elegant evening of dining and could afford to pay well for clean sheets. The bard knew she had to keep her performance here exquisite, but short, if she was to make it to the second place during its peak hour of business, too. After meeting the owner with a friendly greeting, she went straight to the hearth to warm herself. Then, without even bothering to remove her armor, when she felt her vocal chords were steady enough, she began to sing.

Kielanai had not been able to pack any instruments for her journey, but even without accompaniment, her voice was able to deliver a perfect rendition of an elven winter song taught to her as a child by her Altmer mother. Elf song was legendary—so filled with mystery and emotion that it could haunt a human for a lifetime or make an orc weep for lost souls. Add to that the magic that a bard sometimes wove between the notes, and the elf's ancient melody could warm even the hardest hearts on the coldest evenings. When she finished, she was heartily applauded and heavily tipped. Then, after a few minutes of small talk with the barkeep and the cook, she graciously bowed out of their company to hurry to her next stop.

Most of the locals could not afford to dine at the Jerral View. They preferred to get their bread and ale at Olav's Tap and Tack. But what they lacked in individual income, they made up for in numbers and hospitality. The dim, crowded atmosphere reeked of spilled mead and smoked meats, but Kielanai had no problem adjusting her performance style to one more appreciated by these rowdy, rustic hunters and craftsmen.

As the bard stretched by the firelight, to get her circulation going in this slow-blooded place, Daerazal arrived and returned her key. "I bought only one cord of wood since we won't be staying long," he informed her—a reminder not to get too attached to her new home just yet. Ordering a bowl of hot stew, he picked a table in the corner and attempted to blend into the background. Easier said than done.

Nords spoke loudly and drank enough to float a ship. Nords didn't simply chat to one another over dinner. They bellowed, clapped their hands, or pounded the table with their fists. She couldn't help but laugh when the dark elf soon realized that he couldn't raise his spoon to his lips without having to hold onto his bowl as well, for fear that the old wooden table he shared would spill his dinner into his lap.

In spite of the long days of hard travel, Kielanai was in good spirits. She struck up some comical drinking songs and within minutes she had everyone in the room singing along. By the time they ordered second rounds of mead, she switched to jigs and had them dancing. When they became too drunk or tired to dance, she pulled out her enchanted music box and ended the spree with her own rendition of one of their folk dances. With the final bow, she received an uproar of toasts and was offered free mead to quench her thirst.

She was quite hungry by that time, but she knew she wasn't done yet—not with this crowd. Instead of ordering a meal, she settled by the hearth with her mug of mead and cleared her throat once more. It was time to tell a few stories.

Priority went to warning of the places where they had encountered Oblivion gates along the roadside. Next, she described their prank on the Legion soldier. She added humorous actions and expressions to make it more comic and everyone laughed—even the town guards in attendance.

"But then do you know what happened?" Kielanai paused dramatically in her tale and set down her mug. "An Oblivion gate rose from the ground and a horrible daedric spider came through it." She rose from her chair. "Man-sized, half-woman, it spat venom, cast magic, and could render its victims powerless with thick, stringy webs. You've never seen anything like it unless you've seen it for yourself," she assured them. "But Daerazal," she gestured toward him and smiled, "he rose to the occasion like lightning."

All eyes in the room turned toward the dark elf, who sat perfectly still now that he was the center of attention. Daerazal quirked a brow in awkward warning.

Kielanai drew her katana and faced off against her chair in a mock battle stance to continue the tale. When she said that he lunged, she lunged. And when she said that he parried, she parried. She danced around the chair delivering critical cuts between its back slats as she described every move. Then, she stuck one hand behind her back to ask a patron for his blade as well.

Enjoying the tale, the Nord gladly relinquished his weapon to her. Kielanai saw Daerazal's swirling swords in her mind and allowed her arms to follow his victory in slow motion, so that her spectators could imagine the beauty of it. Then, victorious, she leaped onto the chair and crouched there to finish the tale about the monster's ultimate demise.

Chin in hand, the dark elf remained silent through the whole charade, clearly not sure whether to be embarrassed or amused at her retelling.

That wasn't the end of her tale, though. "We ran until I thought I couldn't run any more! And then ... when we stopped to rest ... out of nowhere ... the biggest, ugliest, meanest ogre I've ever seen landed on the road right in front of me. His chest was like a massive tree trunk. His arms were like solid rock. I barely had time to figure out what was happening. I started to run, but then I remembered Daerazal's shield and realized it was in no condition to withstand such a thing again. Sure enough, he went down, nearly unconscious, and the ogre was moving in on him. I called the ogre names. I threw rocks and magic at him. Nothing could deter him. He wouldn't listen to me! So ... I set his knickers on fire."

She drew back with a proud smile and set her hands on her hips while the patrons guffawed with laughter. "I've never seen a man move that fast in my life. Not even Daerazal moved that fast mincing the spider." The patrons laughed even more. "Makes me wonder how fast he would have moved if I _had_ set his knickers on fire." She gave the dark elf a sly wink and the boisterous laughter continued.

Daerazal was now receiving many looks of admiration from rosy-cheeked Nord women in the room and hearty back-slaps from the ox-like men, sharing his table.

"The ogre still came after me, grabbed me by the hair, and threw me into the rocks!" She picked up her drama again. "Daerazal rose to his feet and started dancing with that sword again." She paused with a mischievous smile and lifted her own katana. "The ogre's back was wide open." She tucked her sword under her arm and took a step toward the chair again, thrusting it between the back slats as far as it would go. "I had him from behind, and then ..." She jumped to the front of the chair and thrust again through the back slats, but this time with an extra vicious twist. "Daerazal had him from the front."

She removed her katana from the imaginary battle and slowly sheathed it. "And that, my friends, is what happened recently on the road to Bruma." The bard took a final bow indicating the end of her tale and received an enthusiastic round of applause. "Thank you all for a warm, fun, and wonderful evening! Good night and Divines bless you!" Kielanai blew them kisses, then left the hearth to replenish her mug of mead at the bar.

Olav counted out his earnings during her visit and offered her the percentage he usually did. "That was some mighty fine yarn weaving tonight, Kielanai. Mighty fine." He laughed and clasped a heavy hand down on her shoulder. "And you," he loudly addressed the dark elf at the table, walking to his side. "I'd have loved to seen you mopping the ground with that ogre. Cause you gotta admit, Boy, it looks more like he'd have been mopping the ground with you." He slapped him on the back with a strong hand.

The dark elf's eyes widened at the jovial blow that nearly sloshed his drink out of his mug. _"Boy?"_

Kielanai could see an insult sitting on the edge of her companion's lips, so she struggled to intercept it. "Daerazal is older than he looks, Olav. Remember, elves age slower than humans. And his speed makes up for his stature."

"So, how does it feel to be the subject of a bard's tale, Lad?" Olav asked of him.

"Scarier than anything she just told you," the dark elf answered in a flat tone.

The boisterous innkeeper laughed aloud. "Hey, you kids needing beds tonight? You know you're always welcome to enjoy my fire as long as you like, but I gotta charge you for the bed—ten septims as always."

"Thanks, but I just bought that little cabin for sale by the front gate." Kielanai grinned. "We're neighbors now."

"You mean the first building in line of fire if anyone manages to break down that wall?"

"No, no, My Dear Sir. My house is perfectly safe because I'm putting up a sign directing any uninvited guests to your place during their visit to Bruma," she easily returned. "Cyrodiil's finest mead without venturing to Skyrim, served by the buckets."

The big man laughed heartily again. "Does that mean you'll be in here every night to have a pint? I may have to rethink that free helping I've been handing out."

"You know how much I enjoy visiting here, but I'm afraid my home and heart belong in the warmth of the sun, Olav." She pressed her hands over her heart. "However, I come here so much, I decided that little cabin would be a good investment."

"Ah well, sun … what can you expect from an elf." The Nord waved off her flimsy preferences. "I've got toothpicks more hearty than you or that boy o' yours. I think the ogre and the spider keeled over on their own out of pity, just so you'd have a yarn to spin up here." Olav chuckled to himself and left their table to begin the clean-up process.

The dark elf snorted and spoke under his breath. "Maybe I should put him through a round, and see if he keels over out of pity."

"There, there." Kielanai patted Daerazal's shoulder in consolation. "He was trying to pay you a compliment. You can't blame the man for having a little fun at your expense. I mean, you do look like a little, soot-covered rat to these big humans, so they're amazed that you could do such things."

"Why did you even bring me into it?"

"Because they're a hero-loving people, and I knew they'd enjoy hearing of your heroics. It _was_ courageous, you know. You're very courageous ... for someone of your size."

The warrior's crimson eyes shifted with a thin side glance for her tongue-in-cheek flattery.

"That was a compliment, too, by the way. You're not very good at receiving compliments, are you?"

"Just do me a favor and leave me out of your _tall_ tales next time."

Kielanai laughed at his irritation and pocketed her coins. "Oh, don't be so sensitive. At least I didn't tell them you were wearing women's clothing," she answered with a playful smile.

"Small miracle." Daerazal stood and moved toward the door.

"Or, I _could_ have told them you were a woman," Kielanai continued, following. "That would have made the tale more interesting, don't you think?"

"I think not."

"Nord women are just as powerful as their men when it comes to being warriors. They would have loved a tale featuring a warrior woman. You could even dress the part. Let your hair grow a little longer. Put a few braids in it. A touch of make-up ... Your features are such that you'd make a _beautiful_ woman, Daerazal." She pretended to seriously visualize the transformation. "No, actually, that might not be a good idea. Olav might like you a little _too _much. Bit of a rough snog for you, I'm afraid."

"For your information, when I was battle captain of House Velve'Xukuth I used to have hair down my back. Some of it was braided, and no one—_no one_—thought I was a woman!"

Olav looked up from the bar. Everyone else looked up from their after-dinner chatter.

"Then why in the world did you cut it?" she persisted.

Daerazal shifted uneasily at the attention he called to himself and lowered his voice. "It was a show of good faith toward a promise I made."

"Sounds more like something a pregnant woman would do during a mood swing. What a waste of good hair."

The warrior sighed in exasperation, opened the door, and headed out into the bitter cold of night.

"Take care, Olav! See you again, soon!" Kielanai happily sang out to the amused man at the back, before stepping outside and pulling the door shut behind her. "Rats. I forgot to order my dinner. I guess I'll have to grab something from the tent."

"You know there's only one other bard I can think of that talks as much as you do," Daerazal spoke as he led the way back toward the cabin.

Kielanai was surprised to hear this. "Do I know him?"

"Gods, I hope not. He's the most eccentric necromancer I've ever known."

Kielanai blinked in confusion. "Necromancer? I thought you said he was a bard."

"He's a necromancer who has the mentality of a bard. When he's not conjuring skeletons named 'Bob', he's either babbling endlessly about stupid things, or flirting with anything in a skirt. But he's a friend, so I tolerate him."

The gold elf was pleased. "Does that mean you consider me a friend?"

"It means I'm tolerating you."

She laughed lightly. "Well, I don't conjure skeletons or flirt with skirts, so I should have something more in my favor. Come to think of it, though, neither do you."

"I don't conjure anything. I don't do magic."

"You don't flirt with skirts, either."

"Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I don't prefer men, if that's what you're going to pull out of your bag of jokes next."

"Ah ... then there is a girl waiting for you back in Morrowind, and you're being chaste. Is that it?"

"I've got more important things on my mind than skirts at the moment, okay? Like getting that amulet back and going on to Morrowind."

"That's important, I agree, but there's nothing wrong with having a little fun along the way. You can't continue being courageous if you don't keep your spirits up."

Daerazal snorted in disbelief. "Are you telling me to find a bar wench tonight so I can fight better tomorrow?"

"Of course not. I'm just curious why you had no interest in those women who were admiring you. Is it because they're Nords and you perfer Dunmer? Therana was Dunmer, but you didn't seem to enjoy her attention either."

"Women are more trouble than they're worth. Take yourself, for example ..."

"Ah, _sou_. Your last relationship went badly, did it?"

"I don't want to talk about it ... especially to you. You'll broadcast my personal affairs all around Tamriel like you did my mistake with that ogre."

Kielanai's mirth turned to genuine sympathy because she heard more in that statement than he probably intended to say. Stepping up her pace, she cut in front of him and stopped him. Her silver hair was whipped about her golden face in a strong gust of wind and snow, making her pull her fur collar closer to her chin.

She could barely make out the features of his ebon face in the shadows of the brazier's flames near the front gates where the town guards kept watch, but his red eyes glowed with the same unusual intensity as ever. It was that intensity that she needed to see for herself before speaking to him. "You made no mistake with that ogre, Daerazal."

"Are you kidding me? I went looking for the ogre instead of staying with you. I jumped in front of him instead of staying behind him. And then I got knocked out and needed _you_ to stab him in the back before I could get a decent angle at him from the front."

Kielanai couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Are you upset that I helped you?"

"I'm upset that I screwed up and nearly got both of us killed. And I didn't need to hear it retold like that in front of a tavern full of people."

"Like what? I wasn't making light of it, if that's what you mean. Well, maybe I embellished a little—but it's because I was so _amazed_ that we pulled it off! I know now that we can do this. I think I can even face another Oblivion gate, as long as you and your crazy spider blade are beside me. Every time we've faced danger on this trip, you have met it head-on. Maybe things didn't go the way you wanted them to with the ogre, but you still saved our lives. So we have a chance to save others. And I ..." The bard paused.

"I understand what it feels like to know what you _should_ have done differently. But you do what you have to do. Accept the sacrifice without pity. Isn't that what you said? Well, that's what I was doing—accepting what you did for me without giving you pity."

Daerazal looked beyond the bard to the mountains.

Kielanai sighed. "Look, I know it's probably not what you want to hear for Morrowind or your sister, but on behalf of the Empire … for every man, woman, and child in Tamriel ... thank you for giving me the courage to do this." The bard placed a cold hand on one cheek and leaned down to give a small kiss to the other.

))((

When she pulled back, her smile was almost apologetic for asking such a dire favor. Then, removing the key from her pocket, she turned and crossed through the thick, crunchy snow toward her cabin.

The moist print of her warm lips was quickly burned away by the bitter cold and falling snow, but as soon as the sensation on his cheek passed, the Drow reluctantly followed.


	9. Chapter 9: Break of Dawn

Chapter 9: Break of the Dawn

A few minutes after returning to her new Bruma home, the bard went back outside to stake her magical tent in the space behind her cabin and the town wall. She and Daerazal moved her alchemical crates into the cabin afterward. That night, while Daerazal slept on his bedroll near the warmth of the large fire, Kielanai used the firelight to make potions from all the ingredients she gathered during their trip.

Her work occupied her until sunrise, but when Daerazal woke, he found her asleep on the floor behind him, surrounded by her alchemy equipment, torn pages from her notebook, and dozens of ale bottles that now held more extraordinary concoctions. Lifting one of the bottles, he read the label she had pasted over the ale's name and date: _Fortify Strength_. He lifted another: _Nighteye_. One-by-one, he turned the necks of the bottles to read their labels.

"Think that will be enough?" Kielanai asked with a sleepy yawn. "I realized after I started making them last night that I didn't have any bottles, so I had to pay Olav another visit. I used all of our food supply as well, but I left us some rice and a little nectar on the fire for breakfast." Slowly, she sat up, drew her feet underneath herself, and reached for the pot lid to see how the sweet-rice had turned out. "I didn't mean to fall asleep. The fire didn't go out, but I hope it didn't overcook."

"I need something that can help me hide in the shadows."

Kielanai scanned her bottles and passed one to him. "Chameleon. I only had enough to make two bottles, but the ingredients were good quality."

"The Nighteye was a waste. I can already see in the dark," he reminded her.

"That's for me." She pushed the potions she made especially for him toward him. "My only regret is that I don't have a garden here to collect more reagents, but nothing would survive in this climate except what grows wild."

"Maybe you should build a greenhouse when you come back."

"Yes! A greenhouse! That's a brilliant idea." The bard grinned as she picked up a wooden spoon to stir the rice, but then paused and turned to blink at him with suspicion. "I expected an argument about me going into the cavern with you, but instead you're making helpful suggestions. Did I miss something?"

He gathered his potions to familiarize himself with his resources before packing them, then stood to pull his heavy armor together. "The last time I left you alone, you became a target."

Kielanai smiled. "So, you're going to make sure that doesn't happen again?"

"On the contrary. I need you to be a target this time."

The bard's smile dropped. "Eh?"

"You should show up alone and use your password to get into the cavern, just like you originally planned. I'll be right behind you ... but they don't have to know that."

"Spider tactics," she realized the design in his plan. "We're setting a trap?"

"I'll immobilize them. You get the amulet."

"Just don't _devour_ any innocents to leave an empty husk, okay? We don't need to pull the Dark Brotherhood in on this, too."

"Those people worship a blood-thirsty god who wants to destroy the world. I'd hardly consider them innocent. Besides ..." The Drow slipped his adamantine greaves on over his pelt clothing. The black and red armor almost matched his dark skin and crimson eyes perfectly. "If the Dark Brotherhood wants me, they'll have to wait in line." He adjusted his headband under his white bangs.

She chuckled in amusement at his self-assured tone. "I suppose you think you're that good?"

With a subtle smirk, he pulled on the matching cuirass. "I _know_ I am." Grabbing a wooden bowl and spoon, he impatiently tapped them together. "Where's my rice? Let's get this show on the road. And you better act out my sword moves correctly this time. People are going to think I'm slow in the head the way you're telling it."

The bard laughed lightly. "Well, then maybe you should teach me a thing or two, so I can sing your praises correctly." Taking his bowl and spoon, she filled the bowl, but then stuck the spoon in her own mouth and sat down to eat. "Look at that. I guess you are slow."

The dark warrior was stumped for a moment at her rice porridge theft, but then frowned and crossed in front of her to grab another wooden bowl from the crate of supplies.

"I'm saving you from spilling it on your armor," she excused herself. "You can't expect to frighten anyone into submission if you have sweet-rice dribbled down the front of your breast-plate."

))((

After their short breakfast, Kielanai and Daerazal packed their supplies and headed out of Bruma's north gate back onto the treacherous roads of the Jerral Mountains. Their trek this time carried them higher and deeper into the mountains than the Drow at first thought possible. They were not surprised to see more bears, wolves, and Oblivion gates along the road; but they ran past most of them without incident, intent upon making good time through level land to compensate for the sharp inclines and unstable footing that made up most of their journey.

It took them another whole day, but by evening they finally located the Lake Arrius Caverns that the Mythic Dawn claimed as their headquarters. Behind some rocks facing the rickety old door of the cavern, Daerazal removed his heavy boots and gauntlets, packing them securely in his bag. Though the frozen ground wasn't covered with snow in this lower elevation, it was still extremely cold to his bare feet.

As he drank down one of the chameleon potions Kielanai made for him, he thought of all the times in his past that he had been cloaked with similar magic from Llothian priestesses, so that he could move undetected through the caverns of his homeland. He had lost the advantage of an almost natural ability to levitate, but he was still a Drow warrior, trained to hunt and kill in the pitch dark, twisted tunnels of the Underdark. The threat here was not the task itself, or the setting, but the number of opponents he would have to face down if it came to a fight. Stealth was his only hope of being able to use his other skills to their advantage.

The dark elf vanished so completely that he was thinner than a ghost. Drawing his dagger from its sheath, he tapped her shoulder to let her know he was ready.

Drawing a nervous breath, but having faith that the shadowed warrior would be behind her through it all, the bard led the way to the cavern door. She was careful to hold it open long enough for Daerazal to slip in with her, and he touched her back to let her know when he was ready to proceed.

Daerazal stayed near, but not too close, as Kielanai met with a member of the Mythic Dawn and introduced herself as an initiate. He felt his hope for their plan dip for a moment when she was asked to exchange all her belongings for a red robe of the order, but the bard acted her part without raising any suspicions. As they followed a man named Harrow deeper into the caverns toward the shrine itself, Daerazal took note of the doors, rock shapes, and wall patterns that they passed—things that would lead him back out of the unfamiliar tunnels.

Inside the shrine, an Altmer stood beneath a large statue of Mehrunes Dagon giving a speech to his followers. Taking her place among the other cult members, the bard glanced over her shoulder in uncertainty. Daerazal placed an invisible hand on Kielanai's back to let her know he was still with her.

"That's Mankar Camoran," she whispered under her breath, while keeping her eyes forward. "Do you see it?" She pretended to be listening intently to whatever the deranged man on the podium was saying—something about a new mythic age and a place called Paradise. "It's that red amulet he's wearing."

"Should I—"

"Not yet," she answered, but then quieted, seeing she was being watched by one of the cult members.

Daerazal backed away into the shadows and crouched to count his opponents, noting by any visible weaponry which ones should be taken down first. His Chameleon potion was wearing off, but with his black skin and black armor, he still blended into the darkness so well that no one but Kielanai suspected he was there.

Then, in a brilliant flash of magic, Mankar Camoran disappeared through a summoned portal, along with the Amulet of Kings. In the blink of an eye, the one chance they had to snatch the amulet was gone.

Kielanai flinched at first, obviously thinking it was another Oblivion gate, but then shook her head in disbelief, barely aware that her name was being called.

Daerazal tensed as she accepted the invitation to the podium. With an anxiety-ridden expression, she followed her feet up the stairs to the altar. A large, white tome with arcane markings remained where Camoran had stood. The cult leader had used that book to call his portal to Paradise. The dark elf hoped the light elf was thinking what he was thinking. They had lost the chance to grab the amulet, but they still had a chance to grab that book.

The Drow drank down his last Chameleon potion and quietly tucked a couple of other bottles around the girth of his greaves for quick access, then he crept through the shadows toward Harrow. Kielanai was offered a captive Argonian to sacrifice to Dagon. Daerazal readied his dagger, knowing there was no way she would carry her charade that far ... knowing the consequences that would ensue. They would have to fight their way out of here, with or without the coveted amulet.

Kielanai gazed sympathetically at the bound Argonian man at the statue's feet, but then faced her sponsor with a cold, hard stare. "I accept."

Daerazal halted his hand in shock. What the hell was she doing? Surely she wasn't going to murder the prisoner just to keep up her act—not as much as she held herself above that kind of thing.

Kielanai stepped up to the altar and picked up the dagger. Drawing a steady breath, she looked out over the cult members and seemed to be silently praying for a moment. Then, she snatched the white book and ran.

An immediate uproar rose from the cult members, as they summoned magical armor and rushed toward the pretender—all except Harrow. Daerazal's dagger reached through his back into his heart and dropped him to the stone floor without a second of hesitation. Other cult members were too caught up in their attack on the imposter to notice what was going on behind them. Daerazal sheathed his dagger and grabbed Kielanai's katana from Harrow's body, but in his race to deliver it to her, he paired it with his longsword and targeted everyone in his path. As an invisible, double-bladed force, the Drow cut down over half of the cultists in the shrine as he ran.

As the massive statue of Mehrunes Dagon began to crumble and fall around Kielanai in punishment for her blasphemy, Daerazal caught a glimpse of her securing the book inside her robe, then she ran back to saw through the Argonian prisoner's ropes with the silver dagger. Once the prisoner was free, she threw out an arm to shield the defenseless lizard-man and keep him behind her, but it wasn't long before multiple maces crushed her defensive stance and lightning magic ripped through her body. The Akaviri-Altmer dropped to the floor and lost her grip on the dagger, but then slapped a hand over it and willed her tingling fingers to reclaim it. When she had it securely in her grip once more, she stabbed it into the leg of one of her attackers.

As his most recent Chameleon potion wore off, rendering him fully visible, the Drow doubled his stride up the steps to thrust both swords into the backs of two cultists hovering over the light elf. Once the remaining cultists' initial confusion at having _two_ intruders passed, he became the new target. Parrying the closest attacks and then kicking one the cultists back, he pulled Kielanai off of the floor and pressed her katana into her hand.

"You're still here!" she cried with relief.

Daerazal turned to cut down a cultist that was closing in on them. "Take this, too!" He tossed one of his healing potions to her.

Kielanai caught it, but then immediately passed it into the hands of the Argonian behind her. "Go hide until this room is clear!"

The Argonian, who had already suffered some terrible wounds, drank down the potent mixture, cast the bottle aside, and ran down the stairs to try to find a safe place to wait out the battle.

A spell caster shot a lightning spell at Kielanai and attempted to back up for another, but the Akaviri-Altmer growled menacingly and leaped at him with her katana, parrying against the gnarled staff in his hands. She cornered him against the altar before laying him open with a backhanded slash across his throat, but when he fell. Turning her back to them, she focused on the other faces in the shadows. "Where's Harrow?" she yelled to Daerazal. "He has my Nighteye potions and armor!"

"Dead!" He pointed where he left the body. Jumping up onto the alter, he jumped back down into two of his attackers, knocking them onto their backs. Rolling and running a short distance from them, still barefoot, he scaled the remains of the Dagon statue and used the momentary perch to quickly drink down a healing potion.

Kielanai jumped off of the podium and ran to recover her confiscated goods. With a parry to one side, and a disintegration spell to the other, she softened the mystical armor of the cult members who tried to stop her, then her blade pierced right through them.

Daerazal drank a fortify strength potion that burned straight into his muscles, then dodging a draining spell that one of the cult members shot toward him, he leaped from the rocks and slashed at the mage's staff, slicing it cleanly in half. Grabbing the middle of the sharply angled stub in his left hand, he threw his right elbow into the nose of its wielder, slipped it from the mage's hands, and used it to gut a woman next to him with a raised mace. A war hammer slammed down on his sword arm in attempt to disarm him, but he hardly felt it through the toughened skin and muscle. The owner of the war hammer, however, soon found himself both disarmed and armless.

Standing in a circle of fallen cultists, coming down from his bloodlust high, the Drow flicked the blood from his black-bladed sword and checked its magical charge—empty, just as he thought, and he was out of soul gems. He paused to scan the dark chamber and assess their progress. Most of their opponents now littered the floor. Some of them were fleeing. But three cult members were giving up on him and running back down the stairs after their unarmed prisoner and the unarmored bard.

Sheathing his sword, Daerazal picked up one of the large pieces of stone from the statue and pitched it toward their backs. They fell beneath its weight, not dead, but crushed and pinned. And with that, there were no cultists left who dared to take him on ... not in this room at least. Now was as good a time as any to use Kielanai's poisons. So, he dropped his pack and dug into it for whatever remaining potions he had left, then he jogged to the bard's side.

"Please ..." The Argonian spoke to them in desperation. "Please help me get out of here."

The bard had cast aside the Mythic Dawn robe and was finished dressing in her armor. Drinking down a Nighteye potion, she passed a healing potion to the Argonian. "Don't use this unless you absolutely need it. Stay close behind us, but stay out of the way. We'll get you out of here." The bard cast multiple healing spells on herself, and faced Daerazal as she finished collecting her travel bag. "Some of them got away, but I doubt they'll run far. They're probably regrouping just like we are."

The Drow found the poisons among the bottles he had grabbed and drizzled one bottle down the grooves in his blade designed especially for such a thing. Then, pulling his boots and gauntlets back on, he drew his shield from his back. The time for stealth was over. "I remember the way in to lead us back out." Arranging his other poisons and potions in a readied position, he slipped his pack over his shoulder once more, he led the the Akaviri-Altmer and Argonian back up the stairs to the door they came through. The door, however, wouldn't budge.

"_Iblith!"_ he cursed and gave the door a harsh hit. "They've locked us in."

"Their private quarters are that way," the Argonian offered, pointing to a door on the other side of the chamber's rocky balcony.

Kielanai cast Daerazal an expression of doubt. "Our healing potions are low, and my Nighteye won't last long."

The Drow tried slamming his shoulder against the locked door to force it open, but his ogre-like strength had already dissolved. "Well, the situation won't get any better by staying here. On the way in, we passed a door on the other side of the antechamber. We need to see if their private chambers connect to that door." Daerazal passed his dagger to the Argonian and then led the way to the door on the other side of the shrine's upper balcony.

The trio cautiously entered the private chambers and crept through the tunnel, until those who had fled the shrine spotted them and charged them once more. At least facing off against only one or two at a time in the tight quarters was much easier than fighting a huge mob in an open grotto.

Daerazal kept a mental map of which way they turned at every corner, hoping that at least one of the tunnels would reconnect with that antechamber door. They made their way through the rest of the underground complex with only half as much trouble as the shrine had been, but in the end it became a race for the entrance.

When the last Mythic Dawn cultist went down in the antechamber, Kielanai threw open the outer door to face the lake once more. It had taken them all night to pass through the ordeal, and now the sun had risen on a new day.

Daerazal's eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, so the glare of daylight nearly blinded him just as much now as it had when he first came out of the Underdark. But he squinted through the painful brightness and continued to run down the hill behind the Akaviri-Altmer and the Argonian to put a safe distance between themselves and the cavern shrine.

When they finally came to a stop at the water's edge, behind some trees and rocks, the Argonian passed Daerazal's dagger back to him. "Thank you." He breathlessly shook their hands. "Thank you so much. I will never forget what you have done for me."

"Are you okay to find your way home?" Kielanai asked, still concerned for him.

"Yes."

"Then at least take this." She passed him the silver dagger that nearly took his life. "And this." She passed him another healing potion.

Daerazal put a hand over his eyes to ease their discomfort and gave the Argonian a nod of acknowledgment for his gratitude, but as soon as the lizard-man ran off toward Cheydinhal, the warrior realized that the bard was unusually silent. Slowly he removed his hand and squinted at her to see that she was close to the verge of tears. Her silver hair was matted with blood. Her delicate features were bruised and scraped. She was exhausted and still in pain, in spite of her small attempts to heal herself throughout the entire escape. But more than that, she had failed ... again.

"You saved a life," he reminded her.

"I lost the amulet."

"You gained the book. The amulet isn't lost yet."

Kielanai touched the outline of the book within her pack, but wasn't happy with the consolation prize.

Daerazal checked over his shoulder to make sure no cultists had followed them out. He was certain they had killed, knocked out, or maimed everyone in there, but instinctive caution prevailed. "It's not safe here. We need to head back to Bruma as soon as possible."

Tired as she was, Kielanai nodded in reluctant agreement. Travel pack in one hand, and katana almost dragging the ground in the other, she silently led the way toward the north road.

))((

The elves walked at a much slower pace during their return trip, so they didn't get as far before having to pitch their tent for the night and sleep off their exhaustion. The following day, they by-passed Bruma and went further north, straight to Cloud Ruler Temple.

Daerazal gazed up in awe at the snow-covered, ancient Akaviri structure before following Kielanai up the long, wide steps to the fortress headquarters of the Imperial Blades. Upon entering the dark, smoky temple itself, he was impressed by the rows of katana strung from arched beams—the same design had been present in the main estate of Kielanai's small island. But even more stunning was the fact that she easily walked among the armed guards without being stopped. As wild as this bard's tale was about the Emperor, it was obvious that his personal guards knew her. Eventually, she came to a stop in front of a man in simple robes standing near the large fireplace.

"Your Highness ..." Kielanai greeted him with a bow.

"Good to see you again, friend." The Imperial human greeted her warmly, but he was worried. "Please tell me you bring good news. Please tell me you have the Amulet of Kings."

Kielanai lowered her gaze to the floor with shame. "Mankar Camoran has your amulet, My Lord. And he has escaped with it through a magical portal to a place he calls Paradise. I'm ..." Words failed her. "I'm so very sorry." It took her a moment to overcome the depths of disappointment that she felt in herself, but then she offered the white tome to him. "However, I did get this. If you think it can help ..."

Daerazal blinked with surprise. _This_ soft-spoken man was Martin Septim, son of the Emperor? This simple, unlikely human now held the throne of all Tamriel?

"_Mysterium Xarxes_ ..." Martin Septim admonished her for even touching the thing, but then admitted to having been curious about the dark arts when he was younger and informed her what he knew about it. He said he would need time to study the book, to see if he could use it, but then he recommended that she talk to Jauffre about something else he needed her to do.

"Something else?" Kielanai glanced unhappily to Daerazal, then grabbed his arm and pulled him down with her to a humble, bended knee. "Your Highness, forgive me, but ... I don't think I am the person you and Jauffre need to continue these important tasks. My attempts have ended only in loss so far. You need someone more capable, and I've ... made a promise that I would help my friend find his sister after going to the shrine."

Martin looked to the white-haired, dark skinned elf beside her. Daerzal was kneeling out of concession, but looking up in defiance. "Is this the friend?" he calmly asked, curious.

Kielanai lifted her chin. "Yes. He helped me try to recover the amulet. And though we failed … I owe him a favor in return."

"Promises are important because we are only as good as our words," Martin answered.

"Promises are important, but our words are only as good as our deeds," the Drow dared to correct him, receiving a jab to his plate armor and a stern glare of reprimand from the bard.

Martin nodded in thoughtful agreement. "Yes, that's a better way to say it, I think." He looked to Kielanai once more. "I will ask no more favors of you, if you believe you are needed elsewhere. You have done what you could, and for that I am grateful. I wish you luck finding the person you seek."

"The person I seek is Chizrae Velve'Xukuth," Daerazal spoke up again. "Perhaps you know of her."

Martin shook his head in what seemd to be honest ignorance. "Should I know of her?"

"She is the Nerevarine of Morrowind."

The heir was quietly surprised and gestured to both of them to rise. "Please, stand. Formalities are … bothersome. The Nerevarine is missing? Before the attack in Kvatch, the people there were saying she left for Akavir." He extended a hand to Kielanai to help her straighten.

Daerazal was glad to not be kneeling before a human any longer than necessary. "She left with Lord Vivec for Akavir, but no one's heard from her since. The traditional houses and Ashlander tribes are beginning to think the Empire had something to do with it."

Martin sighed to himself. "I've only just recently found out that I'm Uriel Septim's son. I have no idea what kind of business my father had with the provinces before this Oblivion crisis started. I've tried to keep my nose clean of politics and concentrate on just helping people. But now I'm heir to the throne and can't do anything to help anyone ... not even myself. Ironic, isn't it."

Kielanai's brows rose. "Then ... there is nothing you can do to find out what the Imperial governors in Morrowind might know about her disappearance?"

Martin was thoughtful for a moment and looked down at the book that they had risked so much to recover. "Actually, there is someone here who might know more about it. Please ... come." He led the elves into the eastern wing of the temple, though the library, and down into the basement armory.

Pausing on the stairs to let them pass ahead of him, he indicated a shirtless, middle-aged man resting on a stool after laboring over repairs to his own armor. "This is Caius Cosades ... Spymaster and Knight-Errant of the Imperial Blades ... former head of Imperial intelligence in the Vvardenfell district of Morrowind," he introduced as he followed.

Caius looked up, apparently shocked to see the dark elf between the Emperor's son and the light elf.

Kielanai nodded politely to the Spymaster. "May we have a word with you, Sir?"

"Caius Cosades." Daerazal slowly descended the stairs behind her and stopped directly before him as the Spymaster rose from his stool. "The man who created the Nerevarine."

"Chizrae's brother," Caius guessed.

"Daerazal," he introduced himself. "She told you about me?"

"She's told me a lot of things. And I learn a lot of things without having to be told. How is she?"

"Gone off to Akavir without a trace. Did she tell you anything about that?"

Caius solemnly shook his head, as if he supposed this meeting was inevitable. "We were both paying a visit to Balmora the last time I saw her, which was a few years ago. She had just married Talvalo of Shalonethyr and settled off the coast of Seyda Neen. She was bothered that her fame as the Nerevarine was rising in popularity among the local Dunmer, because the the Imperial loyalists in the region were beginning to show their disdain. I got the impression that they had been giving her trouble. She had bought a fortress home on an island off the coast of Seyda Neen and hired armed mercenaries to guard it—some of questionable repute. Considering the remainder of the Nerevarine Prophecy, the Imperial governors were getting a little nervous that she could pose a threat to the Emperor himself."

"Did my father do something to the Nerevarine?" Martin asked, as if not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"The Emperor's interest in the Nerevarine was based on his concern about the growing threat to all of Morrowind from Dagoth Ur's blight curse. The Tribunal couldn't contain him any longer, and the Empire couldn't touch him without stepping on sacred Dunmer traditions. The only diplomatic solution was to give the Ashlander prophecy concerning the Nerevarine a little nudge. The Emperor saw something special in Chizrae to think that she could fulfill such a heavy responsibility toward the people of Morrowind. He was indebted to her for stepping in where he could not. If he was worried about Chizrae leading Morrowind to secede from the Empire, or assassinating him after gaining power, he wouldn't have personally requested her release from the Imperial City prison and sent her to me. Uriel Septim never would have laid a finger against her. I'm certain of it."

"Maybe he dreamed about who would fulfill the prophecy of the Nerevarine," Kielanai suggested. "Right before he died, the Emperor said he had a vision of me. That is why he trusted me to deliver his amulet. Maybe he also had visions that enabled him to trust Chizrae."

"For whatever reason, Uriel trusted her," Caius agreed. "But others did not. There were—_are—_those who would rather the Nerevarine remain a ghostly figure of lore."

Daerazal could attest to that first-hand. "A couple of years ago, an Imperial enchantress from Balmora schemed to have Chizrae killed. She hired me to assassinate Chizrae after finding out that we weren't on the best of terms as siblings."

Kielanai was stunned. "You were hired to assassinate your own sister?"

Caius nodded, already familiar with the incident. "Shazi was one of many loyal Imperialists who would stop at nothing to protect the Empire's interests in Morrowind. She had requested a very valuable Dwemer scroll from the Imperial Library—one that could open portals."

The Drow's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "That scroll is what brought me here."

"Yes, we suspected Shazi would use it for something like that, but some members of the council supported her scheme. In my position, I could do nothing directly to intervene. I did, however, volunteer to deliver it personally, hoping that I could at least warn Chizrae. I told her to leave Morrowind—go back to her own world. But she insisted on staying. Said Morrowind was her home now."

Kielanai's eyes widened further in surprise, and she looked to Daerazal, but he met her curiosity without offering any further explanation.

Martin came down the steps. "Who among the council would agree to allow such a thing?"

Caius met the younger Septim's concerned expression. "With all due respect, Your Highness, Oblivion is at our doorstep. Now is not the time to point fingers at our allies. I will say, however, that even King Helseth was known to be keeping a prudent eye on the Nerevarine at the time. He even went so far as to set the Dark Brotherhood upon her."

Daerazal tilted his chin. "Are you pointing a finger at King Helseth?"

"I'm saying there are many fingers to point. But the more immediate answers that you seek probably lie in Morrowind itself. With civil war brewing, desperate people will be more pressed to take action." Caius shook his head. "Chizrae was a little hot to handle at times, but I truly liked her. I know I had a share in dumping Morrowind's problems in her lap, but the way she lived up to it, there's a part of me that can't help but wonder if ..." Caius paused. "Well ... what I mean is ... I do hope that you find her safe and well. Whether or not that prophecy actually holds any truth to it, the only person I can think of who could have done a better job at accomplishing what she did is General Nerevar himself."

"We were planning on going to Morrowind as soon as the amulet was returned ... but we still don't have it," Kielanai admitted.

"She managed to bring me the _Mysterium Xarxes_, though." Martin showed it to the Spymaster. "Mankar Camoran used it to escape through a portal with the amulet. I've got to study it and see if we can send someone in after him."

Caius nodded thoughtfully and turned his attention back to Daerazal. "Chizrae helped Martin's father protect Morrowind from Dagoth Ur. If you can help him light those Dragon Fires to protect Cyrodiil, I know someone who can teleport you to the Caldera Mage Guild to save you travel time. And there's someone in Caldera that I think you should see. But if we fail to get that amulet back, eventually all of Tamriel will fall to Mehrunes Dagon."

Kielanai looked to Daerazal, clearly unsure what to think about him now.

Daerazal looked to the new Septim heir with skepticism. "You will help me find my sister, even if Imperial hands are stained with her blood?"

"_Especially_ if Imperial hands are stained with her blood," Martin answered. "My father had faith in her. I wish I could restore her to you, or at least bring her justice. But right now, I cannot even leave this temple. All I can do is give Caius permission to connect you with the right people and promise to get to the bottom of it when this Oblivion crisis is over."

Daerazal considered the time frame. How long would Chizrae last in Akavir? He had no way of knowing whether she was dead or alive, but one thing was certain: everyone's time would run out, if Mankar Camoran succeeded in bringing Mehrunes Dagon back into the material world. The dark elf had no choice but to submit to this uncrowned emperor. "Tell me what I need to do."

Martin was relieved to hear it and reached to shake the dark elf's hand. "I am grateful for your service in Tamriel's time of need. Talk to Jauffre. He needs help in Bruma."

Daerazal, somewhat defeated, glanced to the bard. "Jauffre?" He had no idea who this person was.

"He's the Grandmaster of the Blades. He should be here at the temple." Kielanai bowed to the presence of Caius and the heir, then turned to lead Daerazal, back up the stairs. Leaving the temple's interior, they went back out into the snow and scanned the temple's guarded mountaintop grounds. But when she could contain her rising anxiety no longer, she whirled about to confront him. "_What _in the name of Oblivion _are you_?"

"I'm serving the Emperor, but I'm not a member of the Imperial Blades, so technically I'm still a mercenary."

She frowned at the evasive answer. "That's not what I mean. What _other world_ did you and your sister come from?"

He sighed at this inevitable interrogation. "You wouldn't know of it."

Not getting an answer only made her angrier. "Why didn't you tell me you were from another world?"

"Because it makes no difference to our mission."

"Ah! There you are, Kielanai." An older man in a full set of Blades plate mail, minus the helm, approached Kielanai with a grim expression. "And I see you've brought a friend?"

"Sir Jauffre … My apologies, but I'm honestly not sure _what_ I've brought into your service," she answered, casting Daerazal a cold glance, then turning back to hear what the Grandmaster had to say.

The Drow ignored the cutting remark and stepped around her to introduce himself to the Blades master. "Daerazal Velve'Xukuth. I have important business to attend back in Morrowind, but I'm temporarily at your service to get the Amulet of Kings back—the sooner the better."

"Well, at least we can agree on that. Morrowind is under threat from this Oblivion crisis, too. Thank you. We need all the help we can get." The Imperial human shook the dark elf's hand to welcome his aid and then proceeded to inform them of a threat in Bruma—Mythic Dawn spies.


	10. Chapter 10: A Drow's Tale

Chapter 10: A Drow's Tale

The job of seeking out the two Bruma spies was fairly easy—finished that night. But in the end there was only more bad news. Evidence was found that the Mythic Dawn now knew where Martin Septim had been secluded away, and they planned to open a large Oblivion gate outside of Bruma.

While Martin and Jauffre consulted each other on what to do next, Kielanai sat, head in hand, at the table where Martin had been pouring over the _Mysterium Xarxes. _ She stared blankly at the arcane scrawlings on the pages, ignoring the dark elf who paced lightly near the table. Because of the spy hunting ordeal, she did not press him to explain what Caius Cosades had said about origins, but she was slowly becoming more angry over it.

When Martin and Jauffre finally returned to the table, Martin sat down across from her and explained his research, saying that the _Mysterium Xarxes_ itself was the key to Camoran's Paradise. With a few particular artifacts, he thought he could bind himself to the book to open the portal again, though pursuing that course would be extremely dangerous. It wasn't something Kielanai needed or wanted to hear, but considering the alternative, she nodded in acceptance.

The first item Martin said he needed was an artifact forged with daedric blood, and he suggested a book from the temple's library that could help her find one. Kielanai rose and went to the library to claim the book, but it was late and she was tired, so she headed home to read it there, instead. When she arrived back at her cabin, however, she still didn't feel like reading. Disappointed with her own failure and fed up with her partner's deception, the bard went straight to bed.

When she woke and trudged up the stairs the next morning, she found a couple of cords of new firewood stacked neatly by the side of the hearth and a few bottles of mead lined up on the table next to their polished armor and newly charged weapons. The dark elf had obviously been busy, but now he was sitting beneath a fur blanket near the fire, while finishing off a venison pot pie. He was, apparently, also nearly done reading her book.

"I bought us some lunch while I was out having our gear repaired." He continued to eat without looking up. "We need to travel back into the mountains to reach the Shrine of Azura. There's a map in this book and instructions on how to invoke her spirit. Sounds easy enough to ask for the artifact, but we need some glow dust. Any idea where we can get that? Mage Guild maybe?"

_Lunch?_ Kielanai looked toward the window. Had she slept that long? She went to the table and found a small sack with a second venison pot pie in it. Placing it on the fireplace grill, she slumped down beside him and pressed her lips together, refusing to answer his question.

Daerazal took another bite. "Silent treatment doesn't work with me. I had six sisters."

"Well, at least you have no problem talking about how much you dislike women. You've probably enjoyed watching me make a fool of myself telling people you're from the Ashlands of Morrowind, even though you _know_ it isn't true."

The dark elf stopped chewing to swallow his bite. "Do I really need to remind you that the true nature of a certain amulet was kept from my knowledge until just recently? I don't have a monopoly on the secrets here."

"I hardly think withholding the name of an amulet compares to withholding the fact that you're from _another world_," she groused. "How dare you accuse me of not telling the whole truth back in Chorrol when you were hiding something that big from me."

"My origins have _nothing_ to do with why I asked for your help. The fact that it's the Emperor's amulet has _everything_ to do with why you asked for mine."

"When you reminded me of that back in Chorrol, I _told_ you the truth. But if someone brought you from another world to _assassinate_ your own sister—the same sister you're asking me to help you find—I think I deserved to know that. For all I know, you're looking for the Nerevarine so you can kill her," she fired back. "Partners are supposed to trust each other, or someone could get hurt. I opened up to you, but you continued lying to me."

Daerazal flipped the book shut and pushed it aside. "You want truth? I'm not Dunmer. I'm Drow. And I come from Menzoberranzan."

The bard snorted at the impossible word. "Your explanations are as short are you are." She scratched her bed-rumpled hair in disgust and hunched into a ball, wrapping her arms around her knees to stare angrily into the fire.

He frowned at the retort. "In my world, that's all the explanation most people would need." He finished his last bite of venison pie and stood, dropping the fur blanket behind him. "The dark elves of your world are unfriendly to strangers in their native land, at worst. The dark elves of my world kill anyone they consider at threat, at best."

As he went to the table to get one of the bottles of mead, Kielanai snatched up the warm blanket and pulled it around her shoulders. "Lovely. A world full of _noble_ assassins."

"Not hardly. Menzoberranzan is a Drow city built deep within a subterranean region called the Underdark. It is governed by priestess matriarchs who worship the Spider Queen Lloth, the goddess of chaos. Lloth is more like a demon lord than a goddess, though. She is unpredictable, cruel, and bloodthirsty ... and so are her followers. Necromancy, assassination, slavery, demon summoning—all the dark arts that are banned here thrive openly there. The only way to rise in rank and station is to kill the one above you, and the only way to stay there is to pray that the one below you fails at his attempts to do the same. I was one of the lucky ones. Since I had no brothers, there was no one to contest my position as Elderboy of the nineteenth noble house." Grabbing his sword and two bottles from the table, he came back to the fire and offered her one of the drinks.

Kielanai accepted the bottle. "What, no burning lava pits?" His earlier hints about the horrors of where he came from made sense now, but no _real_ place could possibly be _that_ overtly evil, unless it truly is on the plane of Oblivion.

Daerazal sat back down on his bedroll and popped the cork to have a sip of the strong Nord mead before meeting her sarcasm with a rather grim expression and soft, dark tone. "There was a time when I would have killed you on sight … or perhaps bought you as a slave. I could think up any number of humiliating uses for someone like you," he bluntly admitted. "In my world, light elves thought they were so much better than us that they chased us away from the light of day. But most Drow are okay with that now because … we simply come back in the dead of night." A sinister smirk touched the dark elf's lips. "There's good reason most surface people are afraid of the very sight of us. We're raised on blood lust, and Drow revenge is a bitch." He took a sip of his drink.

"I was in charge of the slaves for House Velve'Xukuth. I handled goblins, kobolds, ogres, humans ... other elves. High elves were the most prized slaves because they're our blood enemies. Usually didn't last very long, though. Too fragile … "

Feeling rather uncomfortable with the manner in which he gave such a confession, the bard began to doubt her doubts. If he was telling the truth … "Then, maybe I should ask what a bad boy like you is doing in a good place like this?"

The Drow set down his bottle and grabbed his scabbard. "Eventually, I was promoted to Battlecaptain, under my House Weapons Master, but regardless of rank and station achieved, sons and slaves have almost the same value in Menzoberranzan. We're little more than war fodder, breeders, and servants. They teach us to hold a sword, place us in front of the priestesses during battle, and buy replacements for us when we die. My mother was a Llothian priestess. So were all of my sisters. And not paying proper respect to a priestess could get _any_ male struck with a special whip given to her directly from Lloth. Each cord was actually a summoned serpent, and its teeth could dig into your back and rip the skin wide open while injecting a magical pain that lingered long after it released you."

Kielanai removed the cork from her drink and took a sip of it. "Sounds like you were intimate with this whip?"

"More times than I care to count. Sometimes just making eye contact was offensive enough to deserve a strike. And I was one of the obedient ones."

The bard frowned. "If you were a slaver, then you deserved to be whipped."

The dark elf's crimson eyes shifted toward her, thin and sharp like the blade that he so efficiently wielded. His voice remained soft, but carried a hint of warning. "I'm not asking for sympathy. You wanted truth, so that's what I'm offering. Still want to hear it?"

She wasn't sure. But curiosity got the better of her, and she quieted to let him finish his tale.

Daerazal shifted his piercing gaze back to the spider cross-piece of the sword and scabbard he held across his knees. "Chizrae is my youngest sister—the only one younger than me. She wanted to be a blades master instead of a priestess, but Mother thought that was beneath her. Every Drow learns to fight for the sake of survival, but in Llothian cities, the path of the warrior is usually reserved for males and slaves—the ones who are disposable. By contrast, the more priestesses a House has, the more the goddess favors it. Chizrae disobeyed our mother and trained as a warrior anyway, first by dragging me into the wilds to teach her, then by forcing our weapons master into it."

"Why didn't you just say no?"

He gave a cynical snort, as if it was a ridiculous notion. "Males don't have the authority to oppose females, especially priestesses. Chiz wouldn't have hesitated to have me tortured or killed if I refused her for any reason. She could have made up some lie about another way that I disobeyed her, and no one would have questioned it. The weapons master, however, was in a better position to cooperate—literally. She ended up having an affair with him."

Turning the sword he held, he gave a short tug, releasing the magnificent blade enough to see the razor-sharp edge and enchanted glow. "He made this for her. _Spider Bite ..._ I worked my ass off day and night to impress him with my training, but she's the one who got the fancy presents." He pushed the blade back into its protective sheath and stared at the spider-shaped cross-piece again for a long moment. "I hated her for it."

Kielanai could tell he meant that with every fiber of his being … at least once upon a time.

"At that time, the city's population was depleted between a war on the surface and war between several noble houses, so Lloth forbid the noble houses to further attack another. But then a powerful mage from one of the high ranking houses was murdered and two of the city's sacred guardian statues from Lloth were stolen. A Velve'Xukuth wardstone was found near the scene of the crime, so our house was blamed for the assassination, angering both the murdered mage's house and Lloth. Chizrae was the only suspect because she had been sneaking out to be with Jereassien, so ... Mother ordered me to kill her."

The bard's head tilted, and her lips parted in shock. "Your _own mother_ gave the assassination charge?"

"You thought this was just a bad case of sibling rivalry?" Daerazal chuckled and shook his head. "_First,_ Matron Sevlessa blamed Jereassien for helping Chizrae and cut out his heart as a sacrifice to Lloth. Then, she ordered me and Chiz to raid a human village for the Rites of the Blooding, but gave _my_ station as Battlecaptain to my sister to effectively piss me off. _Then, _she told me to fatally wound Chizrae, but leave her alive enough to suffer revenge at the hands of anyone that survived the raid. So, by the time I saw Chiz with this fancy blade, I _gladly_ stabbed her in the back and left her for dead."

The dark elf set down the sword and lifted the bottle for another drink. "_But_ instead of taking their revenge by killing her right away, the villagers who survived the raid gave her to a dragon as a payment for hunting down and destroying our warrens. But then some wandering idiots pretending to be heroes killed the dragon and set her free!" He snorted in bitter amusement. "So, because of my sister's dumb luck, Lloth wasn't happy. If Lloth wasn't happy, Matron Sevlessa wasn't happy. And since Matron Sevlessa wasn't happy, I was told to find the stolen jade spiders and bring Chizrae back as a sacrifice, or _I'd_ be sacrificed in her place."

Kielanai didn't know whether to be more offended at the depravity behind this chain of events, or the fact that he was relating the tale as if speaking about mishaps from a weekend fishing excursion. "Is this … common … among your people?"

Daerazal nodded, then sighed in exasperation at the memory of what ensued. "I spent a lot of time trying to track down my sister. I even enlisted the help other people, but I failed to find her by my mother's deadline. I was imprisoned for the next sacrificial offering, as promised, but then one of my human slaves freed me. _My slave_ ... freed _me,"_ he repeated, stressing the irony.

Her brow rose. "Because you were such a _kind_ slave driver?"

"It's complicated," he answered her skepticism with a snide dismissal. "Anyway, I released the other slaves I'd bought from her caravan, and we escaped the city together. I continued my hunt for Chizrae because it was the only way to clear my name and restore my station, but then my search turned up evidence that my sister never committed those crimes. A rival noble house had planted her wardstone there to frame us. I went back to Menzoberranzan to prove House Velve'Xukuth was not guilty of the accusations, but the rival house that set the trap attacked ours and destroyed it. However, since I had evidence that the rival house broke Lloth's edict, the goddess destroyed them as well.

"Chizrae came home on her own in the end, but it was too late. She and I were all that was left of House Velve'Xukuth. She still hated me for betraying her that night at the village. Chiz returned to the new life she had made for herself on the surface while in exile. I tried to live on the surface for a short time, too, but ... things didn't work out. I moved to Skullport for awhile, but then ended up back in Menzoberranzan because Kimmuriel Oblodra invited me into Bregan D'aerthe after he assumed leadership. We traveled together during part of the hunt for Chizrae."

"Bregan D'aerthe?"

"It's a mercenary guild. I know how much you love mercenaries," he sardonically added.

"Yes, I sleep soundly at night knowing the world is a safer place because so many people are willing to do _anything_ for a coin." Kielanai took another sip of her drink and warmed her toes by the fire. "So, you tried to kill your own sister, but then went back to the same people who gave you those orders. That means you had no regrets?"

"Regrets had nothing to do with it. I had to clear my name of the accusations against my house, or I'd spend the rest of my days exiled and hunted. When one Drow house destroys another, survivors aren't allowed."

"So, how did the two of you end up in Tamriel?"

Daearzal scratched lightly at his ear. "In Chizrae's travels, she found a portal to another world. I don't know much about it—something to do with spying on another noble house. But that's how she ended up in Imperial City, then found herself being shipped off to Morrowind as a candidate for the Nerevarine Prophecy. After she took down Dagoth Ur, she wanted nothing more to do with the Empire, so she moved to a little island off of Seyda Neen and hired some former acquaintances as help. She didn't know that one of them was a radical Imperial loyalist.

"Apparently, Chizrae had told a few people close to her where she really came from. And apparently, that included me and what I did to her the night of the Blooding. So, when word got around to Shazi, she thought she found a way to prevent the second half of the Nerevarine Prophecy from coming true. Who better to take down a Drow than another Drow? Shazi created a portal to Menzoberranzan, sent someone to find me, and offered me a hefty payment to finish off my sister once and for all." The dark elf stared at the book on the floor, then shook his head. "I couldn't do it."

Kielanai lifted her toes and rocked back a bit. "You felt a twitch of mercy and decided to scratch it?"

He gave her a flat expression as he took another sip of mead. "Mercy is considered a weakness where I come from. But a lot had changed for me since then. When I left Skullport and was staying with some friends in the Promenade, I made a vow that I would no longer draw first blood—against other people, I mean," he added, excusing his liberal attacks on the roadside animals and monsters. "There's another Drow goddess, named Eilistraee, who wants to save our people from Lloth's madness. She believes dark elves can learn to live peacefully on the surface with other races … like we used to before the elven wars divided us so deeply. Eilistraee's avatar came to me that night and accepted my oath. She knighted me into her service and gave me a spell to calm all the years of blood lust ... to help me make good on that promise."

Kielanai was surprised to hear this. "You ... really are a knight?"

He gave a small nod. "Eilistraee's avatar is a bard, by the way. She has long, silver hair; likes to sing and dance; and carries a long, thin sword, just like you … but a dark elf."

A slaver, a mercenary, _and_ a knight ... His journey through life so far had been incredibly complex. No wonder her initial attempt to figure him out confused her so. Kielanai turned away from him and thoughtfully rubbed a thumb over the lip of the bottle she held. "You drew first blood in the shrine. Does that mean you've broken your vow?"

The Drow was silent for a long moment before answering. "It doesn't matter anymore. My worlds' gods have no power in this realm to bless or curse me. And sometimes I'm not even sure whether I made that vow for myself, Eilistraee, or ... someone else."

_Someone else? _Now this was beginning to make sense to her.

"For all the pain you caused me," he repeated his vow aloud as he remembered it. "For all the pain you caused to others ... I defy you, Lloth, again and for all eternity. We will destroy you before you destroy any more of us. May my hands never touch another blade, but for the sole purpose of defense."

Kielanai couldn't help but smile as he met her gaze. "What woman could say no to that?"

The comment seemed to sadden him, and he looked back to the glowing embers in the fire. "At the time, I believed that getting rid of everything I used to be would somehow change me into something better. But since then I've learned there are only two kinds of people—creators and destroyers. I'm a destroyer. It's what my life has shaped me to be, and I can't change that. But if I can take out other destroyers, then the creators have a chance to live for something more than fighting for survival." He lifted his chin to see if she understood. "It's nice when there's more to life than just survival."

The gold elf nodded in quiet agreement.

Hooking a finger in the neck of his shirt, the dark elf pulled it aside to reveal an elaborate tattoo under his left collar bone. "See this? It's my House Velve'Xukuth glyph—something given to all male members of noble houses after completion of their first Rite of the Blooding. I wanted to get rid of it at the same time that I cut off my hair as part of my vow because the cut of a man's hair is also associated with one's house and rank. But this glyph was created with scar tissue, so it's a permanent part of me ... just like the people and the place that I come from. I know now that I can't shake the past, but at least it is no longer the only thing that _defines_ me."

The bard's brows knit together as she drew closer for a better look at the silver scar tissue on his raven-black skin—a circle with a heart at its center and a fist holding a dagger piercing it through. Calligraphic words of a language unknown to her encompassed the circle, punctuated with small, silver, spider etchings. But it had been scarred even further because of a big "X" through the middle, where he had scored it out with a dagger. "Why didn't you just splash a strong healing potion over it?"

"Some scars remind us not to make the same mistakes twice." He released the neck of his shirt, then flicked his bottle's cork into the fire and watched the flames consume it. "People don't really change. They just channel themselves in a new direction. My new _direction_ was doing whatever I could to help Eilistraee's followers disrupt anything Llothian." He cast her a side glance.

"I'm so sorry," Kielanai answered. "If I had known about the first-blood vow, I wouldn't have put you in a position that forced you to break it."

"Yeah, well ... I lost a spell that helps me stay focused during battle, but at least I can grow my hair back out now." He paused to take another sip of his mead. "Not here, though. Wouldn't want to be _snogged _by a drunken Nord."

The bard laughed lightly at the wry comment that revisited her teasing from the tavern. "They say they hate elves, but I think a pretty little thing like you would make a good snog for a drunken Nord."

"_Any_ elf is a good snog for a drunken Nord." He set down his bottle to recline by the fire and propped his hands behind his head. "And it was _my_ decision to draw first blood in those caverns, not yours. Everything I've done since I escaped being a sacrifice has been my choice. Because under Llothian rule, I was just as caged as my slaves. Chizrae's the one that helped me see that." He tapped a small silver scar on his cheek under his right eye.

"She gave me this for talking back to her the night of the Blooding. Later, when she came back to Menzoberrazan during the house war, we got into another fight, and she stabbed me in the back, just like I had done to her. But instead of killing me for revenge, she walked away and let me live. It was her way of letting me know she forgave me."

The bard set down her drink and lifted Spider Bite's scabbard to admire the garnets and rubies in the spider-shaped designs. "If you didn't follow through on the assassin-for-hire deal, how did you end up with her sword?"

"I originally took it from her body when I left her for dead. I felt I deserved it more than she did. But when I escaped from the dungeon, I had to leave it behind. It sat unused in the armory until after the house war. I found it in the rubble, restored it, and offered it back to her when I met her again in Morrowind. But she had commissioned another one like it from a daedric blade, so she let me keep the original. I had it fitted with a heavy sun shield enchantment, so that daylight would not burn it away, and I renamed it _Spider Bane_ because I intended to use it mainly against Llothians. But I suppose it will always continue to be _Spider Bite,_ Jereassien's final lesson to both of us."

Kielanai pulled the blade from the sheathe to study its runes. "I've studied enchantments at the Arcane University. This is exquisite work. He must have cared very deeply for her."

"No one cared deeply for her," Daerazal sleepily, but flatly, disagreed. "It's not our way. But that level of craftsmanship meant he did want to please her and keep her favor. Chiz and me … we were finally getting to know one another without all the Llothian baggage when she left for Akavir. Perhaps hunting her down again is nothing but a futile attempt to make up for hurting her in the past, but she's all the family I have left—well, unless I want to count her husband." He rolled his eyes at the thought of Talvalo being _family_ and lifted the almost empty bottle to his lips for another drink.

"And their baby—your nephew." Kielanai smiled and replaced the sword on the floor behind him, then crawled toward the fire to check the progress of her venison pot pie.

"Yeah, like I know what to do with one of those. Until he can swing a sword he's quite useless by my upbringing. He certainly doesn't strike fear into anyone who approaches to pinch his cheeks."

The bard chuckled as she pulled the pie from the rack and sat back down to slice it open. Steam curled out of it releasing a delicious, warm scent. "Would it make you feel any better if I said that at least I'm more afraid of you now than the ogre was?"

A small smile touched his lips at her attempt to inject a little humor into the uncomfortable conversation. "No, that doesn't make me feel any better ... but at least it's honest. And it's probably for the best. Drow who live in Llothian societies learn to fear Lloth, but Drow who break away from Llothian societies learn to fear themselves."

Kielanai broke open the pie crust with her fork, but then had an epiphany. She had wanted to know what frightened him. There it was. "This spell that your goddess gave you, what does it do … exactly?"

"Drow society is built on a lust for blood. The more you spill, the more powerful you become … in rank and ritual. When you grow up in that kind of thing and train for it all your life, it's easy to slip into a sort of beserker mode in the heat of battle. It's not a spell in itself, but it becomes a mindless slaughter if the original focus is lost to thrill of the kill."

"_Thrill_ of the kill? You actually enjoy killing?"

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't. There's an adrenaline rush when you know you have the power to take away someone's life." He rolled onto his side and pulled the _Modern Heretics_ book to himself, opening it once more to look at the map revealing the location of Azura's shrine. "I'm not proud of it anymore, or I wouldn't have asked for Eilistraee's help and made the vow. It's more difficult on my own … staying focused on why I'm fighting, rather than fighting for the sake of the fight itself."

"Then swear allegiance to one of the gods here and ask for their help. Or, speak to Martin. I'm sure he and Jauffre would be willing to let you join the Blades, since Caius thinks so highly of your sister. You're definitely skilled enough. The Blades are the closest thing we have to honorary knights who would keep you in check on matters like that."

The dark elf looked up from the book. "After everything I've just told you, what makes you think the Imperial Blades would want a Drow slaver and mercenary in their ranks?"

"Just a suggestion, now that you live in Tamriel. It's the Drow knight that would matter to them. But you don't need an honor code to do the right thing. You know that right? You said yourself those Mythic Dawn members weren't innocent. Oath or not, you did the right thing spilling their blood first."

He considered her words, but then deflected the topic. "I don't _live_ in Tamriel. My home is in Menzoberranzan. In spite of everything, I'm still better suited to that environment. It's where I have the best chance to help bring down the Llothian matriarchy."

Kielanai adjusted the drooping fur blanket back around her shoulders before tasting her lunch. "Does that mean you can return to your world whenever you want?"

"The portal is a one way trip, but with a certain teleporting ring, I can come and go as I please. Anyone using the portal _without_ the ring would be in for a nasty surprise."

"Do you suppose Chizrae went there, instead of going to Akavir? And then maybe something prevented her from coming back?"

The Drow shook his head. "Chizrae hates Menzoberranzan. She wouldn't go back without a damn good reason. It's like Caius Cosades said ... Morrowind is her home now."

"But not yours. You seemed so passionate about it when you were convincing me to come help you find the Nerevarine."

"I've had enough of house politics. If they want to start a civil war, I'm not taking sides. But, if anyone has harmed my sister, they'll answer to me. Like I said, Drow revenge is a bitch."

The bard nodded in understanding—at least as much as she could understand the dark events in his life that led him here. "What became of the enchantress that hired you to kill her? Do you think she could be involved in another assassination attempt?"

"Shazi fell through her own portal into the hands of Kimmuriel Oblodra."

That meant nothing to the bard and she shook her head with a shrug to indicate as much.

"He's a psionicist, and he lost patience with her pretty soon after they first met," he added.

It still meant nothing to her, so she waited expectantly for a little more information.

"I'm pretty sure she's dead. Very, _very dead_."

The bard pursed her lips and poked at her meal with her fork. "Well, I believe Caius and Martin will do what they can to help us find your sister. You'll see."

He closed the book again. "Kielanai ... I know you enjoyed telling stories about me the other night, but ... no one else needs to hear what I just told you, alright? Talvalo knows, Caius apparently knows, and now Martin probably knows, too, because I'm sure Caius explained it to him after our meeting. But, like with the Amulet of Kings, word of a false Nerevarine and a portal to Menzoberranzan needs to stop at you ... for the sake of your precious Empire, if nothing else ... regardless of what you think of me now."

"My lips are sealed," the light elf quietly promised and took a bite of her lunch.

Daerazal accepted her word on that. It was all he could do, really. Pushing the book aside, he reclined on his side and closed his eyes. "You stole my blanket."

Kielanai sighed and set down her venison pie to remove the blanket and drape it back over him. Picking up her lunch again, she looked at the sword on the floor behind him, then watched him settle into a nap. Trust was such a fragile thing.

While she ate her lunch, she mulled over everything he told her. With mixed emotions, she wondered what he had been like as a slaver … what kind of things he had done. She supposed she was better off not knowing, but for his own slave to help free him, he couldn't have been too bad, right? Again, she told herself she was better off not knowing all the details.

It would take time to adjust to the fact that he wasn't an Ashlander from Morrowind. And this other place he described sounded like it might put her Oblivion experience to shame, after all. Oblivion was a death trap of violence and chaos, but at least it wasn't a cunning, intelligent death trap of violence and chaos.

Scooping the bottom of the dish, she tried to get as much gravy as she could onto her crowded fork. At least they had one lazy day to relax in Bruma before heading back into the frozen wilderness to seek out the shrine of the Daedric Prince Azura.


	11. Chapter 11: Bloodlust

Chapter 11: Bloodlust

Kielanai and Daerazal had to travel deep into the snowy mountains to find the Shrine of Azura. It wasn't difficult to locate, but it was late when they arrived and the worshipers present weren't talkative or friendly. Kielanai had bought some glow dust at the Mage Guild, but was disgusted to see the tell-tale luminescence of a pair of will-o-wisps floating at the base of the rocky plateau that night. It was always like that, wasn't it? Buy something and then find it for free. She despised fighting the things, so she told herself the extra expense was worth saving her the trouble.

Since they had to wait until dawn to invoke the spirit of the daedric prince and make their request, the bard pitched her magical tent a short distance from the shrine, and the two elves tried to get a good night's rest.

When the sun had just begun to rise in the overcast sky the following morning, she presented the glow dust and prayed to the large, alabaster statue of a woman holding a moon in one hand and a star in the other. When Azura's spirit entered the shrine, however, she asked that they slay five former followers in exchange for the artifact—followers that had defeated a powerful vampire, but then contracted the disease themselves. Rather than spread their disease among others, they had holed themselves up in a nearby mine.

Having never encountered a vampire before, much less fought one, the bard paled at the request. "But we're not prepared to fight vampires."

"Menzoberranzan is full of vampires," Daerazal informed her. "They're strong, dangerous, and only magic can really wound them; but if you use the right attack, they eventually go down like anyone else. We can do this." The Drow turned to head up the snowy path toward the locked mine that held them.

Kielanai followed, but she was full of reservations and worry. "Have you actually fought a vampire before?"

"Not in this realm, no, but there's a first for everything, right?"

He sounded like he was merely hunting a bear instead of wolves. "I don't see this ending well," the bard muttered to herself.

The mine wasn't too far from the shrine. Daerazal pushed open the old makeshift door and began the descent into the damp tunnel.

Kielanai squinted into the darkness, wishing she had made some more night-eye potions. Even leaving the door wide open to the sunlight, she couldn't see a thing below the descent, but she heard something moving. The bard swallowed and gripped her katana more tightly as she followed. She had told many stories about vampires gleaned from books and legend, so repeating Daerazal's mantra, she kept telling herself that she could do this.

In the shadows of the cavern, she heard her companion's sword swipe at something beside her without striking it and felt the air stir with his quick movement. The bard panicked and cast a light spell, which she immediately regretted. Empty, soulless eyes and a fang-toothed smile became visible, right in front of her face. She would have screamed, but the sound stuck in her throat and turned into a terrified gasp.

The Drow cursed in his native tongue and promptly kicked her feet out from under her.

Kielanai unexpectedly hit the ground on her rump, but rolled as quickly as she could to get out from under the vampire's feet. Stunned that her companion had turned on her like that, she began to wonder whether she should be more worried about the vampire or the Drow. That's when she noticed Daerazal had his eyes shut tight.

The Drow used his shield to block blow after blow that the vampire aimed at him. Then, the Drow spun the blade in his hand to slash blindly toward the undead creature. At first, the slashes were wild and didn't score any hits, but he did manage to keep the vampire in front of him as much as possible based on the sound of its movements. He got hit hard several times, but eventually his own attacks became more precise and quick. Finally, Daerazal opened his watery eyes. And when the vampire's arm swept wide, he kicked the undead creature in the stomach and thrust Spider Bite down its throat into its chest and out between its shoulder blades.

In her little circle of light, Kielanai thought the whole thing resembled a tiny wasp buzzing around a large bull. When she was sure it was over, she stood and approached with caution, grimacing at the strange position of the kill, which looked more like a carnival sword-swallowing act gone terribly wrong. "By the Nine ... You just keep coming up with new tricks, don't you? That one will be fantastic to tell at the tavern."

Daerazal jerked his sword free from the vampire's throat and severed its head, but then he surprised her by pointing its bloody tip at her nose instead. "Don't you _ever_ cast a light spell into my eyes again!"

The bard almost cowered at his fierce scolding, but then thought he was being unreasonably angry. "I couldn't see anything without it. It wasn't even a strong spell."

"It didn't have to be! My eyes are very sensitive to light, _especially _after adjusting to the darkness."

"Then I'll give fair warning next time. Like you should have warned me before kicking me on my backside. I'm supposed to be fighting _beside_ you, not _underneath_ you!"

"I had to get you out of the way, because I couldn't see a damn thing!"

"Well, then you know how it feels to be—"

A hiss echoed from the tunnel ahead of them. It was loud and strange enough to silence them both.

"What was that?" she whispered.

"Douse the light!" he hissed in the same suddenly hushed tone.

The golden elf growled under her breath, but otherwise fell silent and dispelled the light. Now they were both effectively blinded, at least until the Drow's eyes could adjust to the darkness once more. He gestured for her to move back toward the entrance where she could have a bit of sunlight on her side that wouldn't interfere with his dark vision. She worried about leaving his side, but knew she was useless without being able to see in the dark. Retracing her steps a bit, she hid in the shadows at the base of the incline.

The other vampires that had been alerted to the light and noise, came from the back tunnel to attack.

Kielanai had trouble distinguishing between shadows, but it looked like Daerazal was fighting three vampires at once, and one of them was standing at the back of the chamber with a bow and a quiver full of arrows. Three vampires against one little dark elf … The Drow was good, but he wasn't that good.

The bard readied her katana and moved into the darkness, then gave a loud whistle. It drew the attention of one of the vampires, and a bolt of lightning glanced past her ear. "Great. I just _had_ to get the mage."

Twisting, she dodged another bolt of magic aimed at her as the vampire mage gave chase. This would never do. She had to get the creature into the sunlight. And that meant she had to draw him close. She darted to one side and cast a fireball as her shield, trying to get behind him. She dodged another bolt of magic, but then charged forward, using her body weight to shove the vampire mage forward toward the entrance. It was enough to stagger him, but not enough to push him into the light.

The mage recovered and caught her in the ribs with his staff. The blow almost sent her reeling, but she crouched low, caught her balance, and sprang back up to meet him before he could fire another bolt of magic. She attempted to spear him in the side, but instead the vampire mage caught her arm in one hand, gave her a shock that made her drop her katana, and locked her into a hold against his chest.

The cold breath against Kielanai's cheek was the only warning she had before her opponent's teeth sank into her throat._ "No!"_

Blood and energy surged through her veins with breathtaking force as the vampire began draining her. Reaching over her shoulder and clasping a hand over his face, the bard cast a Burning Hands spell. As soon as the vampire drew back from the painful smoldering, the elf grabbed the dagger strapped to her thigh and slashed open his throat. The substance that flooded her hand was cold and thick—sluggish old blood that had coagulated and dried up long ago. How long had they been boarded up alone in this mine, choosing to starve themselves, rather than unleash their taint upon the world?

Gasping to catch her breath, the gold elf reached a hand to the burning sensation at her torn throat, sheathed her dagger and reclaimed her katana. Then, she turned around and conjured another ball of fire in her hand, but held onto it, in spite of its intense heat, using the flickering flames to see if Daerazal was still alive.

In the shadows, the Drow broke away from the vampire that was wearing him down in melee, cast aside his shield, and ran for the vampire archer. Snatching her arm before she could fire the next shot, he dragged her to the ground. The dark elf flipped the vampire over his head with a kick, then scrambled back to his feet to escape the wicked dagger she pulled on him. He struck low, then high, then low again with his longsword to prevent the archer from getting too close, but he soon had to the dodge and block the other vampire again, too.

Daerazal's archer vampire was injured now, but not yet defeated, and the other vampire was still trying to corner him. The wasp was agile, fleet, and driven, but unlike his undead opponents, he was getting winded. Punching an elbow backwards into vampire behind him to give himself space, he spun to deliver the killing strike to the archer's head. The vampire left standing locked weapons with the Drow, staggering him. But the dark elf shifted his footing, skidded to a halt, and came back for more.

Kielanai rushed behind them and cast the fireball at the vampire's back. With the burning vampire distracted by his own agony, the Drow seized the opportunity to sever the undead creature's head. The body hit the floor, and the head rolled toward the bard's feet. But rather than feeling relieved that it was over, the dizzy bard dropped to her knees in the pool of blood beside it.

"Kielanai ..." Daerazal stepped over the body, sheathed his sword, and crouched to grab her shoulders. "Kielanai." He tapped her cheek with the back of his hand to awaken her, and as she responded, he helped her to stand once more. "There's four vampires here. Azura said there were five. There's one more somewhere. You gotta come back to me, so we can finish this off, okay?"

Kielanai trembled beneath his touch and tried to find her voice. "I got bit," she whispered, afraid to admit it.

"What?"

"He _bit_ me," she repeated more urgently. "I've lost enough blood that I feel like I'm going to pass out."

"Can't you heal yourself?"

"I can stop the bleeding, but I can't cure something like this with minor healing spells. And I don't have the right ingredients in the tent to make any potions for it. I've got to get back to Bruma before the infection takes hold." She cast just enough magic to close the wound at her throat.

The dark elf sighed, discouraged. "Okay, stay here, or wait for me outside. I'll take care of the last one."

Her nails dug into his arm. "No! Both of us are tired. Neither of us are strong enough to take on another vampire alone. We do this together, and then we hurry home."

"Then you're going to need a light." Daerazal moved away from her to locate his discarded shield and waited there with his back to her.

Kielanai cast her small light spell again. Both of them took a minute to let their eyes adjust to the magic's candlelit radius as they surveyed their damage.

Daerazal slowly turned to face her this time, and crouched at her side to inspect her bloody throat. With a discouraged sigh, he stood to collect the valuable weapons for resale and search the pockets of the headless vampires. Then, against his better judgment, he helped her up and led the way further into the tunnels to seek out the remaining vampire.

It didn't take long to spot their final target—a large Orc with an equally large war-hammer. With time working against them now, they both knew they had to finish this quickly. But Kielanai was angry. And the more she thought about what the vampire had done to her, the more angry she became.

Rushing forward, the quick, agile Drow easily dodged the longer, heavier swings of the orc's war-hammer. Casting aside his shield once more, Daerazal gripped his sword in both hands and did large sweeps around and under the vampire's arm, until he managed to send the heavier weapon spinning away from him. As soon as Kielanai saw that the vampire had been disarmed, she rushed forward with one more fire spell. But when the vampire turned to retaliate, the dark elf leaped against the orc's thigh and sprang high enough to do one more sweep, removing its burning head.

"Took you long enough," the fatigued dark elf complained in a mild tone, after he landed beside the body that fell at their feet. Kneeling, he checked the pockets and found a note.

"Then disarm him sooner next time," the gold elf groused before she swooned again.

Daerazal stood in time to catch her before she fell. "Okay, that's enough fun and games for today. Let's get you out of here." Tucking the note into his armor, he took a cold torch from the wall and held it out to her.

Kielani set a hand on it and cast a Burning Hands spell to set it alight.

Daerazal stooped to set fire to the body left behind to make sure it could not rise again. Putting a hand to Kielanai's back, he hurried her through the dark tunnels back to the entrance of the mine, pausing only to burn the rest of the other bodies along the way.

Desperate to invoke Azura's dawn-and-dusk spirit before twilight was lost, they ran the rest of the way back to the shrine. When they arrived, Daerazal passed the Orc's note to Kielanai, and she knelt before the statue to present it with their invocation. They received Azura's gratitude and blessing—an infinite soul gem that appeared at the foot of the alabaster statue.

The exhausted bard collected it and stood to pass it to Daerazal for safe keeping in his bag, when she spotted something behind him that made her heart sink. On the snowy slopes, behind the rocky plateau, an Oblivion gate that had not been there before had risen in defiance of their hard work to hunt the artifacts to counter the invasion. "It hardly seems worth the effort sometimes, doesn't it."

Wondering what she was talking about, he turned and looked behind him. "I'll keep an eye on it. Try to get some rest. Otherwise, our trip back to Bruma will be slow at a time when we need to move fast."

That night, Kielanai tossed and turned in restless discomfort. Her body temperature rose in a high fever, then broke with cold chills, and she complained of incredible thirst. Her blood was thinning—the beginning stage of a cruel transformation.

Daerazal split his time between watching over her and watching over the Oblivion gate not far from their camp. He tried to keep her hydrated with water from one of her storage barrels in the tent. He cleaned the blood from her recently healed wound and draped his blankets over hers to keep her warm. But the infection had already set in, and no amount of warmth could chase away these chills.

When the water began to burn rather than satisfying her thirst, the bard cried herself to sleep on her bedroll's small, rough pillow.

))((

Kielanai woke the next morning, buried in furs, to see the bedroll perpendicular to hers was empty. The sun was casting a large silhouette of Azura on the side of the tent, but it revealed no familiar signs of her dark elven companion. Not even his armor was stacked near the crates like it usually was. She couldn't remember their last exchange from the previous night, but she hoped he had not abandoned their cause now that she was infected.

The gold elf stood and walked across his bedroll to open the tent flap. It was a beautiful, sunny day in spite of the cold temperatures and fresh snow, but the presence of the sun reminded her of her new dilemma. The alabaster statue still stood guard over them, but the Drow was nowhere in sight.

Stepping out of the tent and looking behind it, she spotted the Oblivion gate still burning opposite their camp, but she also spotted the Drow among the worshipers who had gathered at the shrine. Still dressed in his black adamantine armor and now wearing his Dwemer shades once more, he seemed to be having a chat with the priest. "Oh, sure. Now he's being friendly," the bard muttered to herself.

She returned to the tent to change from one fur outfit into another, but then pulled her armor over it and stepped back out. "Do you have your travel bag?" she called to him. When the Drow looked up and nodded, she placed her hand over the magical glyph on the tent's flap and gave the command that would dismiss the summoned interior back to its own little pocket of space and time. Once the inside was empty, all that was left was to pack the frame and canvas.

Daerazal excused himself from the conversation with the priest of Azura and came to help her. "Since Azura is largely responsible for the Nerevarine incident, I was asking if she might know where Chizrae is. One of them volunteered to petition Azura about it and send word to Bruma if there is any response." He stepped around her to untie one of the knots in the ropes. "You're looking better."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She touched her cheeks, hoping they weren't gaunt and wrinkled. "Is my face withering into a prune already?"

"You have dark circles under your eyes instead of being feverish." He grabbed the other end of the cord connecting the first ground stake to the rain flap and began to untie it.

Kielanai touched the puffy flesh above her cheeks. "My eyes are turning dark?"

"No, I meant you look tired, instead of sick." The warrior dropped the untied knot and moved to the next rope. "You looked pretty bad last night, but today you still look like you."

"How bad? If I start to look grotesque, no one will want to come near me."

"Not unless they're another vampire," he readily agreed. "Now that _would_ be a rough snog."

Kielanai scowled and punched his shoulder for the insulting remark.

"Ow!" Though the warrior was wearing armor, she had hit between the edges of his pauldrons' plates with surprising strength. "What the hell was that for?" he asked, rubbing his upper arm.

"For being rude." She crouched to tug at the first of the tent's stakes.

Daerazal shook his head at this new, peculiar behavior and returned to untying the cords. "You know, instead of seeing this as a bad thing, you might want to consider the advantages of transforming."

"Advantages? Are you barking mad?" She dug through the snow to uncover the next stake and easily pulled it out of the frozen ground without aid of any tools. "I wouldn't be able to go outside on sunny days and tend my garden."

He shrugged. "Buy a charm to shield you from the sun."

"Nobody would come to the taverns to hear me sing or watch me dance."

"Wear tight leather." He pursed his lips at how easily she was pulling up the stakes. "Orcs and Nords would pay to see you dance in leather, regardless of what your face looks like."

The gold elf blinked at the dark elf's _helpful_ advice, then ignored it to continue working her way around the tent collecting stakes. "My life as I know it would be over, and I _like _my life the way it is."

"Now, see, there's you're problem. You're just thinking of yourself. My fights would be easier if you had more speed and strength. You could see in the dark without using that nasty little light spell. You could purr at people and charm them into doing your bidding. And you'd be able to drain the health of living things and claim it as your own." The dark elf seemed pleased with himself that he was able to come up with so many arguments in favor of it.

The gold elf pulled up the last stake and gave the mercenary a baleful glance. Straightening, she walked toward him, and pressed one of the wooden stakes to his heart. "Let me get this straight. You want me to transform, to make _your_ life easier?"

"You'd also have very sexy teeth," he added in dry humor.

The bard scowled and punched his shoulder again.

"Ow!" He cupped a hand over his arm again and returned the scowl. "You know, it actually _hurts_ when you do that now."

"Good. Maybe it will remind you we're talking about me _dying _and not some adolescent fantasy involving khajiits."

"You're not going to die. You're doing that bard thing again—where you over-analyze everything. You're not even a vampire yet. You said you had three days—"

"Two."

"—two days to cure yourself before it's irreversible. I'm pretty sure we can make it back to Bruma in one. I'm just trying to look at the bright side."

"Bright side?"

"Consider the potential for kicking ass in Oblivion and Akavir. You already eat the blood of living things when you eat meat. Meat is muscle, and muscle is full of blood. And gravy—that's just a fried blood sauce mixed with flour. Being a vampire's not that different."

"Not that different? For one thing, I'm not a cannibal. For another thing, even if I didn't kill people after draining them, I could infect them. And for _another_ thing, I'd be _dead_! Like a-a zombie, or something! No, thank you! But if _you_ think it's so wonderful, maybe I should pass it along to you."

Daerazal finished untying the last of the cords. "Tempting offer, but I'm very resistant to contagions and poisons. Besides, if I feel you breathing on my neck in the middle of the night, I'm likely to mistake it for something a little more _friendly_." He bore a glint of mischievous humor in his smirk.

Kielanai folded her arms at her chest. It was obvious now. This unusually animated commentary was payback for her teasing at the tavern. She decided to change her tune. "Then maybe I'll take that as a challenge."

"Won't work." He picked up the dropped cords and twisted them together, except for two. "Chizrae got friendly with a vampire once and never was turned." Straightening, he pulled the tent's canvas from the frame to the ground. "Trust me, you're better off sucking on rats." He lowered himself to his hands and knees to begin folding and rolling the fabric.

The gold elf walked to the opposite end of the tent to hold it straight. "Why hunt rats when there's a perfectly good, hot-blooded dark elf within reach?"

"Because even if you were to turn me, it would never work between us. You're a bard; I'm a warrior. You detest mercenaries; I happen to be one. You want a dapper man who dresses in women's clothing; I avoid anything that makes me look like a mage." The Drow paused in his effort to roll the tent, and lifted his chin to see her though the shaded spectacles that had slipped down his nose a little. "My bloodlust would interfere with yours because every time you wanted to suck on someone's throat, I'd want to cut off his head and rip out his heart first. There'd be nothing left for you because I'm tragically selfish like that. And then you'd starve and get all shriveled, while I stayed beautiful and young." He shook his head as if it was a shame, but then continued rolling the tent toward her.

She released the tent to plant her hands on her hips. "Well, there's where you're wrong. I'd never let someone like you be more young and beautiful than me."

He chuckled darkly to himself as he stopped rolling the tent and lashed one of the cords around it to secure it. "Well, in that case, I guess you'll just have to eat me instead of trying to turn me."

The bard's hand hooked the neck of his cuirass and jerked him toward her like a hawk snatching a snake. For a moment, she glared at him, as if contemplating how to shred the small warrior into even smaller pieces. "Did you just laugh?"

He frowned at her grabbiness, but did nothing to retaliate. "It might have been a misplaced chuckle."

"I know a laugh when I see one, and that was a very _devious_, little laugh. You never laugh." Her expression softened, then saddened. "You're not mocking me. You're trying to keep my mind off of the worst possible scenario ... in case we don't make it."

"We'll make it," he promised, all humor gone.

She released her hold on him and stepped back with worry.

"I didn't think you were going to make it through last night," he admitted. "I had to consider all possible outcomes." Lashing the second cord around tent, he knotted it securely before standing and helping her tie the tent to her backpack. "But whatever comes of this, you don't have to go through it alone, okay? We'll figure something out."

When he finished, she turned and hugged him, tight. She knew there was nothing he could really do for her, but it made her feel better to know she wouldn't be abandoned all the same. "I'm so scared," she whispered, feeling as if her heart had already stopped.

"I know. That's why you can't waste time worrying about it. We just need to go."

Releasing him, she picked up his pack and handed it to him. He shifted the burden to his shoulders, and they turned their backs on the Shrine of Azura to follow the snowy road back to Bruma.


	12. Chapter 12: Dreams and Nightmares

Chapter 12: Dreams and Nightmares

It was late by the time Daerazal and Kielanai returned to Bruma, so the Mage Guild was already closed for the night. Kielanai was upset at not being able to buy a curative potion or ingredients to craft a potion for herself. Daerazal had offered to break down the door and drag the guild alchemist out of bed, but with the fever returning and consuming her, Kielanai preferred to hurry home and wait out a second night of restless sleep. If the legend was true, she still had one day left to cure her disease before it forever changed her. That was placing a lot of faith in a legend, but the truth was she was so weak and incoherent by the time of their arrival at her cabin that the only thing on her mind was sleep.

She craved sleep, but she didn't sleep well. She tossed and turned with a high fever and thirst as she had the night before. This time, however, she had a horrid headache and nausea. Finally, she sat up and saw the dark elf asleep on the wolf rug near the hearth in her bedroom. He had fallen asleep while tending the dying embers. He had pulled a loose blanket over himself, but he wore no armor as he slept. No weapons seemed to be within reach.

Climbing out of bed, Kielanai crept near to the sleeping Drow. He didn't stir. Hunched over him, she opened her jaws impossibly wide and sank long, sharp fangs deep into his flesh. Fresh, sweet blood flooded her mouth, flushing her face with a tingling warmth, filling every capillary, every limb. This strange new energy felt invigorating, exhilarating ... erotic. When she finished feeding, Daerazal turned to expose his own dangerous smile, but instead she met a gaunt corpse-like face—the face of the vampire who had confronted her under the light spell in the mine. With a hiss, he threw her into the wall, then was on his feet in the blink of an eye to grasp her again and throw her into the fire.

Kielanai yelped and sat up with a start.

The Drow really had fallen asleep on the wolf rug in front of the heart in her bedroom, but he still looked very much like himself.

_Just a dream ... _And yet the real nightmare was at her fingertips as she touched her own face—her teeth had transformed into fangs. "Oh no ... No!" She clapped a hand over her mouth, threw off her blanket, and hopped out of bed to run upstairs. But she only reached the bottom of the landing before the other elf caught her arm.

"Woah! Where do you think you're going?" He put a hand to her sweaty forehead. "You're fever is too high. You need to go back to bed. I'll go out and see if the Mage Guild is—"

"I have to go to the chapel!" she answered, muffled by her own hand over her mouth. "This can't wait until morning!" Still barefoot and in her flannel nightgown, the bard pulled free and dashed up the stairs.

"Kielanai!"

She heard him running up the stairs after her, but she threw open the door and ran out into the snow.

"Wait! Don't go outside!"

The Drow's voice was small and distant behind her. She heard him curse in his native language—something he seemed to be doing a lot more lately. But she couldn't stop running until she shuddered with a bone-deep chill that made her stumble forward and fall in the snow. The fever still burned within her, but this burn felt like more than just a fever. As she stared at her hands, they turned red and began to smoke and blister with swollen welts. Another dream?

The sun was barely peeking above the snow-covered mountains. It wasn't blazing hot or high in the sky, but it was enough to make her scramble for the shade of a nearby stone wall. Her vision began to blur. Frantic, she blinked and rubbed her eyes, trying to see more clearly, but the entire world had gone gray-scale, except for the red glow of some warm-blooded thing that was suddenly upon her. She screamed and tried to kick it away from her.

"Have you gone mental?" Daerazal fussed, fighting her to throw a blanket over her head and shoulders to shield her from the sun. She calmed hearing his voice, and he lifted the corner to speak to her beneath it. Apparently, he had chased her down without bothering to put on his own shoes, or even a shirt. "Do you _want_ to die?"

The raven-black tone of the Drow's shoulder contrasted painfully against the blinding white snow behind him, but her watery eyes were still drawn to the red glow that radiated from beneath his skin. She closed her eyes to avoid looking at it, but that didn't stop her from hearing his pulse race. She shook her head and started to cry. Her throat felt like sandpaper.

When her eyes opened again, she saw that her own golden arms had become ash gray like that of a Dunmer. They radiated a red-hot glow, too, due to her fever, but for how much longer? Blood-red was the only color she could see now, and the darkness beneath the blanket only made it more visible beneath skin of any color. She started to speak, but ended up coughing up blood.

"That's it. We're dragging the alchemist out of bed," he determined, scooping her into his arms.

"No," she rasped. "Take me to the chapel."

"Are you sure?"

"Hurry."

His throat was within reach now, just like in her dream. One bite … That's all it would take to end this miserable suffering. She instinctively knew the headache and nausea would be satiated with blood. Weak though she was, she drew closer beneath the blanket as he made haste to the chapel.

))((

Fortunately, the chapel wasn't far from the bard's cabin. Keeping her tilted to his chest to prevent the blanket from slipping off, Daerazal slammed his back against the heavy door and strained to push it open without being able to use his hands.

The interior of the chapel was silent, cool, and dark, but when the morning sun hit the stained glass windows the chamber burst into an array of rainbow colors—beautiful to anyone _but_ the gold elf in his arms. To her, this fantastic display of light might prove deadly already. Unable to uncover her safely, he continued toward the central altar. "We're here, but the sun's coming in through the big windows. I can't do anything to block them, so stay under the blanket."

"Is anyone else here?"

"No. Just us." Stopping in front of the altar, he thought he felt her lips brush against his shoulder, but he said nothing as he knelt and lay her on the floor at the foot of the basin. If she was already having cravings, one sip of blood might seal her fate before the fever could take her. "Should I go get someone?"

"No. But … stay with me … please." The bard clutched at the inside of the blanket to keep it close like a shroud. "Gwenyth used to tell me that if my soul is too dirty, the gods will no longer hear my prayers. If the Nine do not hear my prayers, you must run to the alchemist while I stay here. I'm less likely to harm anyone else if I stay here."

"I doubt your soul so dirty that it cannot be forgiven."

"I avenged my family out of anger and spite. I chose to murder those who betrayed us by betraying them in return … which makes me no better than them. But if the Nine can forgive me, maybe Gwenyth and my family can, too."

The Drow glanced toward the Altar of the Nine, then rose and stepped back, as if expecting one of the gods depicted in the stained-glass windows to strike him dead.

"Daerazal?" She sounded frightened beneath that shroud.

"Still here," he answered her doubt. But he didn't want to be here. He'd never been in one of the Empire's holy temples before. It felt rather suffocating. It reminded him of his own family's House Shrine to the goddess Lloth. Blind faith can lead a person to believe he is invincible. Unquestioning devotion could drive a person to do unspeakable atrocities. The Drow's discomfort at being in the human temple was becoming more tangible by the minute.

"I'll be at the back if you need anything." Cautiously moving away from the altar, he went to the back of the chapel pews and slid into one of the empty rows to sit down. His toes were numb, and his feet were tingling as they thawed from his trek in the snow. Crossing his bare arms over his naked torso, he shivered and stared up at the judgmental faces in the windows, then looked once more to the blanket-covered bard kneeling at the altar. Whatever she was saying in her prayers, he hoped it was enough.

He heard the blanketed bard whispering prayers as she moved like a cocooned caterpillar. But, after a few minutes, she dared to stretch one hand outside of the blanket … then another. Gradually, she let the shroud slip from her head to her shoulders. When no harm came from the sun's rays, she stood and turned to face him. Then, she came down the aisle and slid into the pew beside him.

"I think I'm okay now. I'm still very thirsty, but … I'm me again. I can see normal colors, and the fangs are gone." Her lips were still flecked with her own blood. Her nose had bled a little, and her tears had dried with crimson stains. She still looked a shade too palid for her normal complexion, and her cerulean eyes remained bloodshot.

As if still in doubt, he placed his palm over her forehead. The fever was gone, and she felt cold and clammy, instead. "You had fangs, and you didn't tell me?"

She sniffled with a small smile. "Sorry. I forgot you think this sort of thing is sexy."

"Um ... no. This is not sexy. Not by a long shot."

"Ugh." Kielanai buried her face in her hands. "I can't walk home like this. What if someone sees me?"

Daerazal took the blanket and draped it over her head again. "Perfect. No one will know it's you."

She cuffed his shoulder and pulled the blanket from her head to frown at him. "I should have eaten you for breakfast when I had the chance."

"And here I thought that was my imagination." He stood, anxious to escape this cold chamber and go back out into the ice and snow.

Finger-combing a handful of messy silver tresses back into place, she pulled some of them down the side of her face like a veil. "How's my hair?" She awaited his opinion.

"It's your best hair ever."

"You're lying."

"I'm lying. But I'm also freezing and starving and wanting something for breakfast myself. Let's get out of here before those human gods realize I'm an ex-Llothian and throw lightning bolts at me." Taking the blanket again, he draped it over both of their shoulders. Then, using himself and the blanket to half-shield the disheveled bard from public view, he walked her out of the chapel, back to her cabin.

When they were back inside her home, they both hurried down the stairs into the more insulated bedroom to grab some warmer clothing for the day. Once he was dressed in a thick tunic and soft leathers, Daerazal put some more firewood in the grate, then grabbed his weapons belt from under the wolf rug. "You should use today to rest. Light a fire, shut the door to keep in the heat, and stay in bed. I'll take Azura's Star to Martin, and see if he has anything new to say." He started to leave.

"Daerazal …"

He paused and turned to see what she else she needed.

"Thank you." Her gratitude was sincere, but she seemed at a loss for further words … for once.

He answered with a single nod, then pulled the door shut behind him and went upstairs to suit up in his armor. Leaving Kielanai to recover from her illness, Daerazal headed to Cloud Ruler Temple.

Martin was pleased to receive the artifact, but questioned where the bard was. Daerazal said she wasn't feeling well, but left it at that. Martin wished her well and reported that he had discovered the second item needed to bind himself to the _Mysterium Xarxes_ in order to open Camoran's portal—the blood of a god. He knew that was a tall order to fill, but said that blood scraped from Tiber Septim's armor was a reasonable solution. Martin referred him to Jauffre to find out more about how to get the armor.

Daerazal found Jauffre and briefly explained Kielanai's absence before listening carefully to the Grandmaster's instructions concerning the armor's location and the circumstances of the evil curse under which they would find it. He said he feared he was sending them to their deaths, but there was no other way. Jauffre, however, was troubled about something else, as well. An Oblivion gate had opened outside of Bruma.

))((

Kielanai had not been happy to hear Daerazal's report after his visit to the temple, but after only one day of bed-rest while he gathered supplies, she was back in her armor.

Bruma's sentries had spent all night building barricades and taking down daedra that came through the gate, and now, once again, she found herself faced with the task of leading the town's guards into Oblivion. The bard looked into the eyes of each trusting face beneath those helms, then turned to their captain and the Drow with uncertainty. After what happened last time, she couldn't bear the thought of losing any one of them, but most of all, she couldn't bear the thought of losing the Drow. She wanted to believe this was because she had come to value him as a friend, but she was honest enough to admit it was because she didn't think she'd survive without him.

"You can do this, " Daerazal spoke, as if reading her mind through her anxious expression. "You've beaten wild animals, bandits, an ogre, _five_ vampires, and the entire Mythic Dawn cult." As he drew his sword and secured the helm on his head—a precaution he had not bothered with in any of their previous battles—a slow, wicked smile touched his lips. The Drow was in his element. "Let's go kick daedra ass."

The bard's jaw clenched in resolve. Drawing her katana, she readied her shield. "Let's kick daedra ass," she agreed and took the lead toward the gate.

They were ambushed even before making it through the portal. A swarm of invading demons descended upon them. One man went down, but the rest of the unit cut their way through to the gate, leaving the remainder to the guards stationed there. Thunder and lightning split the blood red sky, and black clouds raced across the endless horizon as the hot, shimmering magic of the gate released them into the Oblivion plane on the other side.

Once there, however, they were immediately surrounded by more daedra. Without having the chance to regroup, they had to defend themselves on all sides. The battle was chaotic at best.

As Kielanai turned to lunge at a frost atronach, she saw one of the Bruma guards struck down by a storm atronach. She dodged a head-on attack from a clannfear, but saw another guard go down between two daedroth. By the time the first battle came to an end, half of her unit littered the ground among the demons.

Daerazal hooked her arm. "They did their job so you could do yours," he sternly reminded her.

_Acceptance without pity ... _ Kielanai nodded and lifted her eyes to the one thing that could give meaning to their sacrifices—the tower. "This way!" she commanded and ran down the curving path toward an ominous black citadel that rose high above the lava-flooded, broken land.

Stray daedra here and there picked up the scent of the intruders and began to pursue. She heard them clashing behind her as more guards from her unit stayed back to keep the demons from catching up to their leader. The bard choked back her sorrow, knowing she was leaving a trail of men behind her, just like before, but eventually she made it to a crossroads near the tower's entrance.

The only way to the door was guarded by two large monoliths armed with fiery, spinning stars atop them. Kielanai stopped behind a rock to catch her breath, but when she found the courage to look behind her, her heart nearly broke. Captain Burd and Daerazal were all that remained.

Daerazal pointed to a large, gray, bipedal demon in a red loincloth that paced in the area beyond the rocks a short distance from them. "What the hell is that?"

"A xivilai," Kielanai informed him. "On their own, they're very strong and can cast magic, but those two pillars shoot fire at anything that gets close. That means—"

"It means we're going to get hit from three angles no matter what we do," the Drow finished for her. "And if we linger to fight him, those flame throwers will roast us alive."

"What about going over those rocks?" Burd suggested, pointing to a rough rise on the path ahead of them. "There's a daedroth up there, but I'd take the daedroth over the two flame throwers any day."

Kielanai shook her head. "Too steep. There's no good way to get up there."

"I'm assuming that's a Dremora beyond the fire sentinels, guarding the entrance?" Daerazal guessed based on what he could see from his angle.

Kielanai inched her way closer to where he stood to peer between the rocks and pillars on the opposite side of the crossroads. _Dremora … _"Any one of them could block us halfway there and hold us in line of fire."

"Well, I bought a few fire resist potions, but timing will be everything. Their protection won't last long, so don't drink it until you absolutely need it and then go through as fast as possible." Daerazal passed bottles from his pack to the bard and the captain, keeping the last one for himself.

"Then we can't afford to take chances that these minor wounds won't make a difference." Stepping forward, Kielanai summoned her healing magic and cast multiple bursts of pure white energy into Captain Burd's surface wounds he had received thus far.

Waiting his turn for healing, the Drow's senses alerted him to the fact that the xivilai had heard them and was already advancing. Drawing his sword, he ran forward to take on the demon by himself so that the bard could finish tending to the captain. The xivilai was two or three times his size, but the Drow apparently remembered the harsh lesson from his mistake with the ogre. Instead of confronting him directly, he scaled the rocks that had been declared too steep and leaped down behind him, bringing his sword down hard into the large demon's shoulder. The xivilai turned to crush him with a war hammer, but the Drow dropped to a roll and came up behind him again. As the xivilai turned again to fight Daerazal, Burd, fully healed, ran to strike him in the back. Staying behind him was the key to defeating him.

Kielanai knew that the two warriors were fully capable of bringing down the injured demon, so she turned away from the battle, drank down her fire resist potion, and ran as fast as she could between the fiery monoliths. The spinning stars clanked as they turned to blast her with explosive fireballs from both the right and the left. Engulfed in flames, the Akaviri-Altmer sprinted beyond target range to avoid getting hit again. But as soon as the flames were doused by the potion's magic, the Dremora cut off her run to the tower. The bard froze in her tracks.

These daedra, above all others, had frightened her the most. It was a Dremora that had knocked her down the stairs and rendered her helpless with only one strike. They were the intelligent demons, delighting more in torture than death. The most dangerous spawn of Mehrunes Dagon, they were the architects of this nightmarish realm.

Slowly, but defiantly, the bard raised her katana between herself and the Dremora. "I've faced vampires and defeated them, so I know I can defeat any demon spawn in this realm," she told herself and braced her defensive stance. "Even you."

The Dremora laughed. "Bold words, elf. I like bold words," he snarled in a multidimensional voice. "Keep talking ... please," he sardonically begged and then laughed some more. "Because the more you convince yourself of such lies, the more time you give us to hold open the gate ... the more daedra we can send into Bruma. Cyrodiil is just the tip of the mountain. We have the ability to summon infinite gates, but you do not have infinite time to stop us."

"But we _will_ stop you."

"You cannot stop us. Your fight is as meaningless and futile as your mortal life." He shouldered his daedric war hammer and began to advance toward her. "Surrender now, and I will kill you quickly by sweeping your head from your shoulders, instead of bleeding you slowly from within for boring me with this game."

Able to hear the grunts of discomfort from her companions still fighting behind her, the bard angrily slashed toward him, but the blow glanced off of his armor without inflicting any wound. The Dremora brought his war hammer down over her skull, but she jumped back in time to dodge the crushing attack. The already cracked ground beneath her feet took the hit instead, splitting even further and allowing lava to rise between the cracks. Kielanai stumbled from the vibrations, but jumped back again and then leaped forward with a slash toward the Dremora's unprotected head. "Too close, too close!" she scolded herself as soon as she did it, but it was too late. The Dremora backhanded her across the face with a gauntlet-protected fist and sent her sprawling several feet from him.

For the second time in two days, the bard tasted her own blood on her lips, but this time is wasn't because the Nine had purged an evil disease from her body. This time it was _she_ who was doing the purging, just as she purged those pirates from her family's island. Growling in frustration, she scrambled to her feet and summoned a ball of snow and ice. "Get out of Tamriel and stay out!"

Her freezing magic hit the demon's exposed neck and coated it with ice. Once again, her luck had prevailed where her fighting prowess failed. He gasped, coughed, and tried to claw the solid neck-cuff away before it choked him. But while his hands were occupied with saving his breath, Kielanai stole it. Her long, slender katana slipped between the demon's heavy armor plates and bore deep into his lungs when she pushed all her weight against it. "Tamriel is _my _home_._ And I won't let you and your stinking kindred take it," she promised through clenched teeth.

Locked against her shoulder in a deadly embrace, the Dremora responded with a sinister chuckle. "Words that echo the useless provincial cries against a Tamrielic Empire."

Shocked at his comparison, the bard shoved the demon back and removed her weapon to flick the blood and gore from it. His soul banished from its hellish form for the moment, she scavenged his daedric armor and then checked over her shoulder to see her companions' progress. Burd had just made it through the flame throwers and was jogging toward her. "Where's Daerazal?" she demanded.

Catching his breath, he set the tip of his bastard sword on the molten-rock ground and pointed behind her.

Kielanai turned to see that the Drow was up on top of the high rocks with the daedroth. "What's he doing up there? Our goal is the tower! He's wasting time fighting that one!"

"It was coming after you while you were fighting the Dremora."

The gold elf watched anxiously for a moment, almost certain the dark elf was going to fall right into the fire traps and pull the daedroth down on top of himself. She had not been able to cast any healing spells on him yet, as she had with Burd, so the possibility of his collective wounds compromising his fight concerned her.

"Damn. There's a second Dremora guarding that door, and it looks like he's just decided to join the party." Burd shouldered his bastard sword again and braced himself for the advancing demon. But when he checked over his shoulder, the bard was gone.

Kielanai ran toward the high rock wall behind the right monolith. Careful not to get too close to its sensor range, she flipped her shield onto her back and sheathed her sword. Then, digging her fingers into the sharp, tight spaces between the rocks she began climbing.

Up above her, the daedroth snapped its crocodile jaws down into the dark elf's sword-arm and shook it like a dog shaking a chew toy. Daerazal watched helplessly as Spider Bite spun away from his grasp to the ground below. That was the final straw. The Drow jerked his captured arm across his own chest, turning his back against the creature, and dropped his shield to wrap his free arm around the back of the daedroth's neck. One solid jerk pulled the heavy beast over his shoulder onto the ground at his feet. The Drow's arm, however, remained in the creature's locked jaws, so he was jerked down with it. Grasping the stubborn demon's maw, he strained to pry his arm free.

Half-way up and over the edge of the rock, the bard saw what had become of the battle and grasped the fallen demon's leg.

Surprised by the second opponent, the daedroth's jaw relaxed.

Daerazal pulled his arm free and then spun around on the ground to plant both feet against the prone demon with a strong shove.

Kielanai, still holding onto the demon's leg, finished the job by pushing him over the other side of the rock, causing him to fall into the monolith's line of fire. Flames blasted the flailing demon, dropping his roasted body to the ground.

"You just had to run off on your own again, didn't you!" she fussed at the dark elf, dropping to her knees next to him and casting her healing magic over his bloody, mauled arm.

As soon as the pain was gone and he could move it again, Daerazal leaned past her to seek out his lost sword. He didn't see his weapon, but he saw the Dremora closing in on Bruma's captain of the guard. "Shit! You left him alone? You're supposed to take him with you into the tower!"

"I wouldn't have had to leave him alone if I hadn't had to come over here and tend to you! I was already able to heal him. Now, sit down!" Kielanai dug her fingers into the neck opening at the back of his cuirass and jerked him backward to cast a few more healing spells while she could. "Stupid Drow," she fussed between having to concentrate on drawing energy through herself to send into him. "You have _no _ability to heal yourself outside of potions, and those need to be conserved until you absolutely need them."

Daerazal ignored her scolding and, as soon as he was able to stand, he leaped from the high rocks to snatch Spider Bite from the ground where it landed and run to Burd's aid.

With a mighty growl, the second Dremora guarding the door to the tower launched himself toward Burd and sent him spinning face-down on the rocky ground—one hit.

Kielanai winced at the jarring sensation in her ankles from the high drop as she followed Daerazal. She started to run to Burd's side, but the Dremora quickly shifted his position to stand between them, facing her with a hungry grin.

"Get Burd off the ground and into that tower," Daerazal told her.

Kielanai watched as the human rose uneasily to his feet and retrieved his sword. He was alive, but he couldn't fight in that condition. Another blow like that would obviously be his last one. As much as she hated to agree with this strategy now that it was down to just the three of them, she stayed back while the Drow rushed to engage the demon. Then, she ran toward Burd, grabbed his arm, and hurried him toward the tower steps where she could heal him again.

))((

Daerazal allowed himself to indulge in his desire to spill blood. He could smell it ... taste it. Each strike became stronger, faster ... more instinctive. But unlike true berserker rages, Drow bloodlust did not become recklessly wild. It became increasingly precise, locking him onto his target with such ferocity that nothing could deter him from his kill until either he or his opponent fell.

))((

Leaning against the wall near the huge, arched door of the tower, the injured captain allowed the bard to cast multiple small healing spells on him while he watched the small dark elf take on the powerful demon. "Like a badger attacking a bulldog," he commented.

Kielanai's mind drifted back to her discussion with Daerazal concerning his broken vow and his true origins. "He was born among demons." Her eyes drifted to the tower behind him—the tower that would lead them to the sigil stone. "I sometimes wonder if his only joy now lies in killing them." She put a hand to the door, but then looked back toward the fight, torn between the need to press onward and the urge to turn back.

))((

The Dremora finally won an advantage by knocking the Drow's shield from him. Hooking an arm around Daerazal's throat to hold him in place, the Dremora moved behind him to deliver the killing blow. But before he could raise his blade, the Drow dropped his stance and changed his footing just enough to push himself back into his captor. The back of the Drow's helm hit the Dremora's chin. The Dremora was thrown off-balance, and both of them fell on their backs. Swords were dropped as Daerazal thrashed to free himself from the crushing grip of the demon, but the demon tightened his hold.

The smaller fighter slipped down slightly and then thrust the heel of his hand up under the demon's chin with as much strength as he could muster from that angle. Digging his heels into the ground to gain the leverage he needed, he then twisted his torso around to face the demon and push away from him. The Dremora snatched his cuirass to pull him back and bared his teeth as if he were going to eat the elf alive, but the Drow's fingers grabbed the dagger hidden inside the cuff of his boot and drew its jagged edge firmly across the demon's throat.

Slowly drawing himself to stand, the exhausted dark elf picked up the daedric longsword his opponent dropped, tucked his helm under his arm, and limped across the courtyard to the steps where he saw the remainder of his party waiting for him. "_Why _aren't you in the tower?"

The gold elf placed a hand over his cuirass to send what was left of her healing energy through him. "It was hard enough to leave behind good warriors. I can't leave behind a friend."

It wasn't what Daerazal expected, or wanted, to hear above his own pulse still thrumming in his ears, driving him to look for an excuse to kill something else. But, after a moment, he put his helm back on, flipped his shield across his back and readied his new Daedric longsword beside Spider Bite. "Ready when you are."

Kielani nodded. "These towers are heavily trapped. Look before leaping." And with that as the only warning to both of her headstrong companions, she pushed open the heavy, arched door.

A brilliant beam of red energy stretched from bottom to top in the center of the otherwise pitch black interior of the tower. The Drow couldn't help but smirk. "Looks like Narbondel. It's an enchanted pillar we used to mark time at home."

His amusement was cut short when a frost atronach rushed from the back of the room to prevent them from going any further. "How in the name of the gods do those ice things manage to survive in a place that resembles the inside of a volcano?"

Refreshed from the bard's healing, Daerazal readied his defenses, then spotted the two other daedra coming from the shadows behind the first one. Without hesitation, he left the frost atronach for the human captain and bard to contend with and went after the two demons that would bleed. The lust for more kills was growing stronger with each fight. The tactics which he used were becoming more gruesome with each kill. It wasn't enough to take down these opponents, he had to behead and eviscerate them, too. It was tempting to salvage body parts as trophies like he used to when doing raids with his fellow Drow, but the calls from his companions after the defeat of the atronach were enough to remind him that trophies would probably be frowned upon.

It didn't take them long to clear the path to the door leading up to the next level—the Rending Halls.

"The sigil stone is at the top of that pillar of light," Kielanai informed them as she pushed open the door. "But the only way _to _it is through the corridors _around_ it." She started up the curving ramp to the second level, but stopped short when a daedric spider hissed at them from the top and ran down to intercept them.

The Drow grinned and readied both of his blades. "This one's _mine_."

))((

As soon as he engaged the large spider demon in battle, the bard and the captain of the guard ran past him to what seemed to be an empty, unguarded hall. "Wait!" Kielanai threw out an arm to bar the captain from proceeding. She scanned the walls and ceiling. "It's trapped." Locating the small lever tucked against the wall, she pulled it and watched as giant blades swung down from above, one right after another, all the way down the corridor. She looked to Burd, and then walked back to the stairs to check on the Drow.

The spider lay in disarranged pieces at his feet, and he was already ascending the curved ramp to join them. "What now?"

The gold elf backed up and gestured toward the mechanical death trap.

The dark elf's expression drew into a disgruntled frown. "Engineers are the most secretly sadistic individuals around." He sighed heavily. "Well, I guess we time it perfectly, or the journey ends here." Counting the sweeps going up and down, Daerazal made the first run, followed by Burd and Kielanai. All of them passed through in one piece.

The ramp beyond the trap opened back into the central room facing the beam of red light. Two more daedra charged them, but they were able to outrun them, up to the Corridors of Dark Salvation. Forced to fight multiple times in those dark halls, Kielanai made the warriors stop long enough to heal both of them to some degree. Then, she led them through the final door into the Sigillum Sanguis.

The top room of the tower was laid out differently from the rest of it, but it was open enough for both Burd and Daerazal to easily see and face-off against all the guardian Dremora.

"Almost there!" Kielanai ran past them to the top. Breathless and grateful that she had once more made it to the end of her search, she almost reached out to grab the fiery black stone caught in the pillar's magical light, but then caught herself before making a terrible mistake. _No, ... not this time._ If it came down to it, she knew that she had to shut the gate with or without them, for the sake of Bruma; but this time she desperately wanted to take the two surviving men from her unit back with her.

After the warriors cut down the remaining Dremora and raced to the top of the stretched-flesh ramps, the bard looked over her shoulder in relief and beckoned them near. "We have to go back at the same time, or someone will be trapped here." She linked arms between them and hoped this would work. "Take the stone, and no matter what happens ... don't let go."

Captain Burd and Daerazal, sensing that was a warning, set their free hands on the stone and braced themselves for what would happen next. As raw magic burst from the pillar of light into their faces with tremendous force, the platform on which they stood began to shake violently. The chains holding the entire construction up began to crumble and fall. They struggled to keep their hold on the stone, passing it to Kielanai, who hugged it to her chest. Then, teleportation magic exploded in a blast of bright, white light.

When the light faded and her vision returned, Kielanai found herself lying in the snow outside the smoking, collapsed Oblivion gate near Bruma. Pushing herself to stand, she picked up the stone and immediately looked for her companions. Burd was cheered by his men, but he came to her side to thank her for her aid before dusting himself off and heading into town to tell the countess that Bruma was safe ... for the time being. Turning around, she found the Drow waiting behind her.

"You did it," Daerazal spoke, exhausted, but pleased for her.

"_We_ did it," she corrected and gave him a hug. "I couldn't have done it without you … even if you did get a little insane toward the end."

He stiffened, then stepped back. "Let's go tell Jauffre."

She detected his odd discomfort with her friendly gesture, but didn't understand it. Sure, she was disgusting smeared in blood like that, but so was he. He had wallowed in more blood and gore than any of them. But she smiled and nodded in agreement as they left to find the Grandmaster of the Blades.


	13. Chapter 13: What Friends Are For

Chapter 13: What Friends Are For

The next day, Kielanai and Daerazal pawned the daedric items they had collected on their run through Oblivion, then used the profits to buy soul gems and alchemical ingredients from the Mage Guild. To save on unnecessary expenses, Daerazal went to the local smithy and asked if he could use the forge to do their armor and weapon repairs himself. Fjotreid was only too happy to share his resources ... in exchange for a demonstration of those sword skills the dark elf supposedly used in his battle against the daedric spider and the ogre. The warrior was surprised at how the bard's tale had worked indirectly in his favor, but he willingly shook hands on it and called it a deal.

Giving him an I-told-you-so grin, Kielanai left the smith's shop to visit the Jerral View Inn and Olav's Tap and Tack for lunch. At each place, she told a new story about how Bruma's own town guards risked their lives to close the Oblivion gate right outside their front door—something to honor them and ease the sorrow of their loss. When she finished, there wasn't a dry eye in either lodge and many toasts were offered in the names of the fallen.

By the time the dark elf came home from the forge that night, he was surprised to see that the sparse little cabin was beginning to look more like a cozy home. While he had been trying to save their money by using the forge, the gold elf had obviously been spending it by purchasing a few basic furnishings. There was a woven rug and chair in the front hall, as well as a closet for storing coats and armor. White lace curtains covered the frosty, bare windows now, and an odd looking temple painted on a silk tapestry hung on the wall near the stairs. Walking further into the kitchen, he found there were two chairs and ceramic dishes at the table. A full range of cooking utensils were stacked on a cabinet near a keg of mead, and a soft bear rug warmed the floor where he had been placing his bedroll by the hearth.

The bard had been cleaning her cabin all day after moving in the new furnishings and was sweeping up the potato peelings on the floor after having made herself some chowder for dinner. So, when she looked up to see his soot-covered pants and borrowed blacksmith apron, she wasn't too pleased to see him trailing black dust and melted snow from the front door to the kitchen. "What are you doing? You're supposed to take your shoes off at the door. That's why I bought the rug and the chair."

He took one glance at the dark puddle on her clean floor, but made no effort to move. "Where did all of this come from?"

"The store. Well, all except the silk tapestry, which was a gift from the countess. She has a marvelous collection of Akaviri artifacts. I went to speak to her today about closing the Oblivion gate outside of town, and I told her I would be going to Akavir after this Oblivion mess was over. She practically begged me to bring back something interesting for her, and gave me that tapestry as a show of good faith for my services." The bard grinned, but then immediately frowned again. "Now, take off the boots and leave them at the door before this broom finds itself somewhere unpleasant upon your person."

Daerazal returned to the front chair and removed his boots. "Do you have another savings stash you were hiding from me? Or is this our travel money I'm looking at?"

"I set aside half the money for the trip and then earned a little more at the taverns." She grabbed a rag to mop up the sooty puddles behind him, and then nodded with satisfaction seeing the boots set aside. "You're looking very Nordish, by the way. I could have sworn I left a dark elf at the forge this afternoon." Her brows furrowed and she reached forward to wipe a sooty smudge from his ebon cheek. "Yes, there's still a dark elf underneath all that muck." The bard smiled to herself at his expression as he walked past her to drop the armful of repaired gear at the back corner of the room near the stairs. She was glad to be feeling better after the harsh events of the last few days. "I hear bathing in frozen lakes is the tradition among these people. Shall I buy you an ice pick so you can go clean yourself up?"

"You've spent enough already. A bowl of water and a rag will do."

"In that case, I happen to have a new wash basin and towel down in my bedroom."

"There's more downstairs?" He leaned over the rail, almost afraid to see how much more she had spent.

"And I left you a portion of a hearty chowder and garlic bread that I made for myself from some of Jerral View's local produce—which is basically mushrooms and potatoes and ... more mushrooms. But the cabin was a good idea, wasn't it? Come on, admit it." She prodded his shoulder. "Much better than a stale room at a cold, cramped inn or sleeping in the snow on the rocky ground."

Daerazal paused. "Mushrooms?"

"Let me guess. You don't like mushrooms."

"When you live underground, you learn to love mushrooms. You learn to do a lot of things with them." He returned to the kitchen to help himself the remainder of her shared meal.

"Nothing too embarrassing, I hope."

He flashed her a dry glance before sitting down at the table. "Primarily, we _eat_ them, but if they're poisonous, we use them to make poisons. Or, if they glow, we make glowglobes out of them. If they make noise, we use them as alarms."

"Noise?" Kielanai laughed. "What kind of noise would a mushroom make?"

"Shriekers are planted around some of the noble houses. Get too close to them, and they emit a noise like a scream."

The bard set her broom against the corner wall and moved to sit down across from him. "I hear the Telvanni wizards of Morrowind grow mushrooms large enough to actually live in."

He nodded lightly as he devoured the chowder. "Menzoberranzan has a couple of mushroom forests, and their trunks are solid enough for building furniture or small fires," he added over a mouthful. "Mushroom stems smoke more than tree wood, though, so that's bad for enclosed spaces. Therefore, wood from the surface is a high-priced item and most fires are magical. But Drow prefer to have wizards magically shape geothermal stone into homes—much harder to destroy."

Chin in hand, the bard watched him eat and tried again to imagine this unusual place that he called home. "You know, if you were to tell tales about your homeland like that at taverns, we could rake in twice the coin."

He seemed amused, but shrugged off the idea. "First, we don't want anyone to know where I'm really from, remember? Second, I'm not a bard."

Kielanai smiled lightly. "You don't have to be. People would listen to you because what you have to say is unique. When I went to the Tap and Tack today, everyone wanted to hear what you did inside the Oblivion gate. So, I told them how you fought the Dremora. And, of course, they were all very touched to hear how their friends and husbands acted with such valor to get us to that point."

He stopped chewing and swallowed. "You didn't make me look slow again, did you?"

"Well, I have to slow it down in order to tell the story, don't I? You can't expect me to _shwoosh _blades like you do ... unless you're willing to teach me those fancy tricks."

He shook his head in firm denial. "Took my whole life to learn how to handle swords like that."

The conversation topic suddenly sparked a new interest with the bard. "You gave Fjotreid a sword lesson today."

"No, I gave a sword _demonstration_. That means he stayed out of the way and watched."

"But think about it! If I knew how to do some of those tricks, not only would it enhance my story-telling and increase my tips, it could mean the difference between life and death in our next fight. We have to find the armor of Talos next, you know. Whatever has managed to curse the shrine of a god will probably be strong enough that it requires all the effort we can afford."

Daerazal looked up from his next spoon of chowder as if she had just set a live chicken on the table between them. "You want _me_ to train _you_ in blades?"

With an excited grin, Kielanai leaned across the table. "Why not? You said you taught your sister."

"Because she dragged me into the wilds with that damned snake-whip."

"Well, I'm asking nicely and offering free room and board at my cabin ... instead of kicking you out in the snow. Although, if you prefer a whip, I'm sure I can find one somewhere."

He returned a small snarl and continued eating. "We have no space or equipment."

"We could go to the Fighters Guild. I'm sure they'd let us borrow their practice room for a short time. Or ..." The bard stood and picked up the broom again.

"No," he answered before she could even present that option.

"Oh, come on. What if you were to get into a nasty pinch, and I couldn't help. I'd have to wave off your curses and say, 'I'm terribly sorry, but you had the perfect opportunity to pass along the skills of your trade to me, if only your pride hadn't kept you from wielding a broomstick.'" She followed the prediction by slowly drawing the end of the broom across her neck, making soft cutting and choking sounds to indicate the tragedy of his slow, painful demise.

Shaking his head at her act, he dropped his spoon in his bowl and stood. "You're more morbid than I am sometimes," he groused as he pushed the table and chairs out of the way.

Kielanai victoriously mimicked the wicked chuckle he let slip at the Shrine of Azura. "I'll go get another broom from Olav!"

"No brooms." The dark elf took the item from her and set it in the corner near the hearth, then went to his pile of belongings near the stairs and retrieved his two swords from their scabbards. "But you'll need cloth—thick cloth you don't mind wasting. Lots of it."

Kielanai's grin fell. "What's wrong with using brooms?"

"I've trained with real swords ever since I could hold one. If you want to learn to fight like an _ilythiiri sargtlin, _I'm going to treat you like one." He draped his left arm around her neck, allowing the daedric sword to dangle carelessly over her shoulder, while his right hand held Spider Bite directly in front of her in admiration.

"What's an _ilyth_—"

"Drow warrior," he translated in a low, sinister tone. "We always use real weight, real balance, real blades. But I'll allow you padding because you _don't_ want to get cut by _this_ one." Still holding Spider Bite before her nose, he let it flipped the hilt over the back of his hand before catching it again and turning it to let her see the impossibly thin cutting edge for herself.

Kielanai's heart almost flipped with the blade, fearing he had accidentally dropped it. Trapped in a deadly triangle, with the dark elf directly behind her, the daedric sword to her left, and Spider Bite under her nose to the right, the gold elf began to rethink her request. "Okay. Well. You know what? You're absolutely right. Maybe we should wait until after we get the armor of Talos. Martin shouldn't be kept waiting any longer. I mean, the Oblivion Crisis is priority right now, and we'll still have lots of time in Morrowind for training before going to Akavir." The bard held perfectly still, keeping an eye on both swords. "If you're tired right now, you might make mistakes, right?"

One white brow lifted. "What about saving my life? What if I cry out to you in battle, and you can't respond? I'd die without leaving someone to carry on House Velve'Xukuth's martial traditions."

"It's not that I don't trust you, but …"

"Oh, see, _that_ will never do." He sighed heavily and shook his head in disapproval. "If you're serious about learning Drow blade tactics, the most important rule you can never break is, 'Trust no one.'"

She turned her chin—carefully to avoid the blades—to give him a questioning look. "This is part of the lesson … right?"

"Drow never fight fair—not even in training. Giving away any advantage you may have is stupid."

"With your skills, you have enough advantage without it," she answered with a pert smile.

He smirked at the bard's counter-tactics. "Drama to talk me into it. Excuses to talk me out of it. Now flattery? You really do think you can talk your way out of anything. But you _do realize_ I could cut your throat _while_ you were talking, right?"

"You won't harm me. You have no reason."

His crimson eyes narrowed as if in contemplation. "I never needed a reason to kill a gold elf before."

"You need me in Akavir."

"Ah, the bargaining stage ... _Now_ you are beginning to think like a Drow." Releasing her, he returned the more menacing sword of the two to its scabbard. "If you forgo the advantage of the kill to risk negotiation, you must offer me something I _need_. Nothing less will do. And an alliance stands only as long as it is mutually beneficial. But even in an alliance, be on your guard. Your partner might decide the alliance is no longer beneficial and stab you in the back to inform you the truce is over."

Kielanai rested a protective hand over her throat. "Point taken. But you could have padded the blades before waving those things in my face, you know. What if your hand had accidentally slipped?"

"If you want me to train you in _any_ Drow tactics, you must first learn to think like a Drow." Dropping the sheathed Spider Bite back on the pile at the top of the stairs, he picked up her sword, instead. "You're a dancer, so learning to use your feet might be a better place to start."

"My _feet_?" The bard accepted her weapon and cast the sheath to the floor behind her. She was much happier with this option, but still a little nervous about using unpadded swords. "Feet are not as impressive as a sword."

"They're not as _expected_, either," he answered with a keen glimmer in his eyes. "A properly placed kick can be a great secondary weapon. Use it to open your opponent, so that your sword can be more effective." Still holding the daedric sword, Daerazal dropped into a defensive position and gestured for her to advance. "Feint left," he instructed.

She did so with slow deliberation, not wanting to actually strike him. He, however, did not hold back pushing forward and kicking her blade away to disarm her.

Kielanai yelped and jumped back, checking her hurt wrist.

Daerazal straightened. "I warned you I was going to treat you like an—"

"I know, I know." Retrieving her blade, she faced him once more. "I wasn't unprepared for it, that's all."

The dark elf's lips pressed together at her excuse, but then he dropped into a ready stance once more. "There are three basic kicks—front, side, and roundhouse. Unless the situation calls for it specifically, avoid spinning kicks because it's difficult to get proper speed, and you're turning your back on an armed enemy. His sword is quicker than your spin. Side kick has the greatest reach for targets below the waist."

The gold elf lifted a skeptical brow. "Below the waist?"

"It's extremely difficult to maneuver a high kick in combat, and the sword is usually held at waist level or below. Use a thrust kick instead of a snap kick, and if your opponent is off-balance or too close, you can use it to get a solid opening for your sword. In your case, your shoulder was dropped, your hand was low, so I was able to directly disarm you." He did a slow demonstration against her knee, thigh, and hip to demonstrate where she could aim a good, solid kick.

"Front kicks are similar, but used from a forward-facing stance. Roundhouse is done facing side-stance, and it travels from outside the body toward the opponent's head, which is often more unprotected than the rest of the body." He did a slow demonstration of each kick as he explained, to help her see the differences and how to immediately follow the kick with a sword strike.

"Just don't forget the sword is the primary weapon," he added when he drew back. "People new to using kicks often make the mistake of thinking legs have an advantage because they're longer, but with a sword, the arm has the greater striking range. Kicks can close that range and hurt an opponent, but it's still the sword that delivers the killing blow. Also, any time your feet leave the ground, you lose some maneuverability, so be quick about it. Timing is everything. Do it right, or don't do it at all. Being impaled while hanging in mid-air is a harsh reminder that kicks don't kill."

Humored at his explanation, she grinned. "Got it."

"You're sure?" He backed away. "Try me."

She started to approach, slow like in the demonstration.

He shook his head. "Not like that. For real."

"I don't kick friends for real."

"I'm not your friend. I'm a Drow slaver and battlecaptain. If you don't practice the attacks for real, you won't be able to do them in real combat when you need them."

"Can't we use a chair as a training dummy, or something? I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't hurt me," he assured her.

Hand on hip, she gave him a doubtful expression. "Wearing steel underpants, are we?"

"I have confidence in my ability to dodge you, and I _happen _to be wearing a top quality adamantine Codpiece of Endurance."

The speechless bard blinked with surprise.

The dark elf snorted at her expression and shook his head in amusement while chuckling to himself.

There was only one reason he could be so humored. "That was a joke, wasn't it."

He looked up, still amused. "You _believed_ me?"

"It _sounded_ suspicious," she argued in her own defense.

"You've already broken the first rule about not trusting anyone. And because you're afraid of hurting me, you're not trying to take advantage of me. You're a terrible Drow."

The bard lunged forward and snapped her foot toward his leg.

Daerazal caught her ankle and twisted the leg to flip her over, throwing her to the floor.

Kielanai grunted and winced as her back hit the hardwood planks. When she opened her eyes and lifted her head, she saw that the tip of the daedric longsword was underneath her chin. Disgusted at her easy defeat, she let her head fall back against the floor. "That was _not_ a dodge!"

"I lied again." Smiling with satisfaction, he sheathed the daedric longsword. "That was too slow. And it was a snap kick, instead of a thrust." Dropping the scabbard into the pile of equipment and grabbing his travel pack instead, he headed down the stairs to wash off the soot from the forge and change into something clean.

"Codpiece of Endurance … " Kielanai muttered in disgust as she lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling beams of her cabin. "Arrogant, pint-sized twat of an elf …" She was already plotting her revenge, but then she couldn't help but laugh at how easily she'd been duped. The intense little bastard had a sense of humor after all. And it felt good to laugh in spite of everything else that was happening.

))((

The following day, the two elves trekked to Sancre Tor, fought their way through the living dead, and laid to rest the souls of Tiber Septim's loyal bodyguards in order to win the armor of the man-god Talos. Martin was happy to receive it, of course, and told them of the next item he needed—a great welkynd stone. So, the pair traveled to the Ayleid ruins of Miscarand fighting zombies, goblins, and a lich to collect one of the rarest of rare magical gems. When they returned to Martin again, he said he needed only one more thing to finally open the portal to Mankar Camoran's Paradise—a great sigil stone.

"There's only one place to get a great sigil stone, but I have a plan," the heir informed the bard as he lowered the _Mysterium Xarxes_ and looked across his table full of books and magical notes to where she sat facing him. "You're not going to like it," he warned her with a sympathetic, wane smile.

Kielanai glanced toward Daerazal and then Jauffre, who were both standing next to the table. Just when she thought this problem was almost solved, she began to have a new sense of foreboding.

Martin explained that the only way to get a great sigil stone was from a great gate, and since they had letters from the spies indicating that a conspiracy was underway to open a great gate near Bruma, he had decided that they should allow it to happen. However, three smaller gates were needed to open the great gate for a siege engine to pass through. It would be putting Bruma at a terrible risk. Martin volunteered himself and his Blades to defend Bruma against the siege, but they needed someone to rush in and get the great sigil stone, collapsing the gate before the siege engine could attack.

Kielanai looked to Jauffre, shocked that he was actually agreeing with Martin on this idea.

"Told you, you wouldn't like it," Martin apologetically added. "But we need that stone, and we need you to explain the situation to the countess of Bruma ... to ask for help from the Bruma town guard."

Kielanai's spirits sank and her shoulders slumped. "And I suppose I'm also the one you need to close the great gate? How many Oblivion gates am I going to have to go through before this is over?"

"Hopefully, the great gate will be the last one, my dear," Jauffre spoke up and moved a step forward between them. "But before we even attempt something like this, I'd like to send you on a diplomatic mission to speak with the Elder Council and each of Cyrodiil's county representatives to see if they could send aid for Bruma's defense. That gate outside the town wall weakened Bruma's guard forces. I doubt they will be able to withstand four more gates opening without help."

The bard knew she should have felt happy she was finally being asked to do something that suited her talents. "I guess diplomacy is what I do best. Diplomacy and making friends ... Lot of good that does me in Oblivion ..."

Daerazal, however, was growing impatient. "We've already been all over this damn province collecting magical artifacts. Backtracking to every county to ask for help could take weeks."

Kielanai popped up from her chair. "I've got an idea! I'll do it. I'll bring back aid from every town. You'll see," she promised Jauffre and Martin. Then, grabbing Daerazal's hand before he could protest, she ran into the library and threw her travel pack down on one of the wood tables. Digging out her notebook and writing supplies, she spread them before her and straddled the bench to sit down.

Bewildered, the warrior leaned over her shoulder to rest a hand on the table near her inkwell. "_What_ are you doing?"

"Writing letters. You've been fussing at me for having too many friends ever since this journey began, but here's where having lots of friends comes in handy. I'm going to write to a friend in each town and ask them to speak on my behalf to the count or countess. It will still take some time for the messages to transfer back and forth, but it will be much faster than trying to go to each location ourselves. Do me a favor? Go back to Bruma and round up anyone you can find that would be willing to act as a round-trip messenger. Pay them something if you have to, but have them meet me at my cabin around sunset so I can tell them what we need to do."

Daerazal shook his head at what seemed like another pointless, side-excursion, but left the temple library to do it.

As Kielanai wrote letters to her scattered acquaintances, Jauffre came into the library to check on her. When she explained her solution, he nodded in approval, but sat down at the table to speak about a more private matter. "I have something for you," he told her, handing her a key.

The bard was puzzled. "What's this?"

"That's a key to a chest that belongs to me. It's in the basement of the Imperial Legion offices. If anyone questions your search, refer them to me. I hope it's still there after all this time." The Grandmaster gave her a warm smile. "I didn't realize who you might be until recently, or I'd have given it to you sooner. Got time for an old man's tale?"

The bard was intrigued by this new mystery and set down her quill to rest her chin in her hand while she listened. "I've always got time for a good story, Sir."

"When I was a young man, just having entered the Legion, I trained hard, did watches, and rode patrols just like every other up-and-coming grunt. One time, I was on patrol on the road between Kvatch and Anvil, when I came across goblin tracks and fresh blood. It could have been a wild animal kill, or it could have been a traveler. I couldn't tell, so I decided to check it out to be sure. After I left my horse and went down the hillside, however, I was ambushed by the goblins. They beat me senseless and dragged me into a cavern—they were too full from their previous victim to eat me just yet, I suppose.

"A couple of days later, some pirates came into the cavern, looking for a place where they could stash some stolen loot. They killed off the goblins, but they had no intentions of setting me free since I now knew about their stolen loot. In fact, they decided I should be killed, too. One young man volunteered to do the job and took me into a back area away from everyone else. But then, he told me that he wasn't really a pirate; he was a secret operative for the Emperor—a member of the Blades. He told me his name was Riversong and asked me to carry a message to Imperial City about a sunken Imperial vessel. Then, he gave me his sword and helped me escape."

Kielanai was stunned. "Riversong? That's … what my family name means."

The Grandmaster smiled warmly. "The Emperor confirmed his story when I returned to Imperial City and reported it. He had little else to say to me about it, though, because I was just a legion grunt who had no business meddling in covert missions. I locked away the sword the man gave me, intending to return it if I ever saw him again. It was an exquisite blade, and I felt he deserved to have it back in exchange for saving my life. But that opportunity never came, and I forgot about it. By the time I entered the Blades myself and rose high enough in rank to understand the way these things worked, any operatives the Emperor might have had among the pirates that haunt the shores of Tamriel were gone. The real pirates apparently found out they had traitors among them and executed them."

Kielanai looked down at the old key in her hand and was saddened. "If they were Blades ... why did the Emperor not protect them?"

"Blades operatives are sworn to secrecy about their covert missions. If they are found out, asking for help from the Empire could make matters worse than whatever trouble sent them into the field in the first place." Jauffre sighed lightly at the loss, but continued. "You never told me much about yourself when you brought the Amulet of Kings to the priory. I trusted you based on Uriel's trust in you and your willingness to help. What else could I do at the time? But in your absence, I sent one of my men on an information hunt to satisfy my own conscience. He reported that you were living with an old alchemist in Weye, but that she was rumored to have pulled you from a shipwreck fleeing a pirate island near Anvil."

"That's what Gwenyth told everyone to avoid answering questions about me, since she shouldn't have been on our island, and I wasn't her child."

"Your island ..." The Grandmaster smiled to himself at her choice of words. "At first, I wondered if you were a victim of the same pirates who wanted to do away with me. I consulted the Elder Council to see what records we had of past operations involving pirates in the Anvil region, and that's when I discovered there was a family by the name of Riversong that boasted four operatives on a string of small islands in the Abecean Sea. Most of their interceptions were Tsaesci pirates from Akavir, so their scrolls were sealed away in the archives when the base was besieged. Uriel Septim, gods rest his soul, had enough problems to deal with from within Tamriel without getting involved in disputes from Akavir.

"But then I read the record of your confession at the prison. You were caught trespassing on a private seafaring vessel just before the Emperor's assassination. The owner of that vessel was a suspected pirate, but his ship disappeared while you were searching for the amulet at the Mythic Dawn's base."

The bard lowered her head in shame. Yes, she had killed the pirates and given up on her quest for the amulet … until Daerazal came along.

"That's when it occurred to me that maybe you weren't a pirate victim. Maybe you were a pirate progeny—maybe the child of the Blades agent who saved my life that day. I don't know which of the four operatives I met in that goblin cave, but if you are a child of the Riversong family, he was most certainly your kin. And therefore ... his sword belongs to you."

Kielanai took another look at the key and closed her fingers around it. "Thank you." She reached a slender arm around the Grandmaster's neck to give him a soft hug. "Thank you for telling me a new story about my family, Jauffre. I will cherish it as much as the sword ... even if the sword is no longer there."

Jauffre patted her back as he pulled away. "It was a Riversong that pointed me toward the Blades, and now that I am an old man, I'm honored to have a Riversong in _my_ Blades. I feel like I've come full circle. I just wish it could have been under better circumstances."

Kielanai smiled and nodded. "I will look for the chest when I ask the Elder Council to aid Bruma."

Jauffre clasped her hands, allowed himself another smile, pleased with the way fate had brought them together, then left to see if Martin needed anything.

Kielanai removed her necklace and looped the key onto the chain before returning to writing her letters.

A few hours later, she packed up her writing supplies and sealed letters and left the temple for Bruma. At the cabin, to her surprise, Daerazal had managed to round up more than enough townspeople willing to lend a helping hand. As the Akaviri-Altmer used her own map to show them the locations known of any Oblivion gates and passed letters into their waiting hands, the warrior sat silently in the background. Thanking each one of them personally with a hug and a kiss, she wished them good luck and gods' speed. And she hoped her friends could turn on the diplomatic charm as well as she could.

))((

Kielanai and Daerazal saddled up two horses from the Cloud Ruler Temple stables and rode to Imperial City that night to get an answer as soon as possible, but Chancellor Ocato said that the Legion already had its hands full keeping watch over the Palace and the surrounding areas. The bard was disappointed, but afterward turned her attention to the key that Jauffre had given her.

They were both very tired from lack of sleep, but as the sun rose over the central tower of the Imperial Palace, the bard headed to the Legion offices in the Prison District to ask where Jauffre's storage area in the basement was. As she walked across the courtyard toward the building, she heard a sudden rush of feet behind her on the sidewalks. Weapons were drawn and magic exploded.

"For Lord Dagon!" someone shouted.

The bard whirled to see what was happening and found that the Drow warrior was no longer at her side. Instead, he was near the main gate, _slicing_ into one of the local citizens. _Oh my gods, what is he doing?_

The two citizens he attacked fell limp to the ground.

"Daerazal!" Kielanai was on the verge of panic, but when the Legion guards approached him, both of them calmly sheathed their swords to check the bodies.

The Drow walked away from his crime and strode toward her as if nothing had happened, but he could tell by the horrified look on her face that she had missed the precursor to his slaughter. "Mythic Dawn agents," he explained.

The bard felt her blood run cold. "Are you sure? How did they know we were here?"

"Spying or scrying—I suspect a little of both." The warrior checked over his shoulder to see the Legion guard being joined by another to clean up the mess. "No place in Cyrodiil is safe for us now. The sooner we can head to Morrowind the better."

Kielanai reluctantly turned away from the incident and walked to the office, where she inquired about Jauffre's storage space and explained the story behind the old chest. Down in the basement, she found boxes, crates, chests ... and more of the same. There was no way to locate the right chest without fitting the key to each and every one of them. With a sigh, the gold elf cast the Drow a look of apology, but then sat down on the floor and removed the key from her necklace to begin testing.

There was nothing the dark elf could do but wait. So, he perched himself on a worktable, leaned back against the wall, and closed his eyes.

After a while, Kielanai's key turned a lock with an audible _click_. She cast the other elf a glance and saw that his ears had alerted him to the sound, as well. He watched in silence as she dusted away the years on the old chest's lid and removed a finely crafted Akaviri katana. Its black lacquered sheath was inlaid with gold dragons, and gold silk tassels wrapped its hilt.

Scooting off of the table, Daerazal drew near and set his hands on his knees to look over her shoulder for a closer inspection. The Drow swordsman gave a low whistle of admiration. "Nice."

The blade stuck slightly in its _saya_, but then revealed Akaviri characters engraved down the side of the blade as she unsheathed it. They glowed violet and then red with magic, even after all these years of neglect.

"At least two enchantments," Daerazal noted.

She read the characters, grateful that she still remembered her native language, even if it was a little rusty sometimes from disuse. "_Itai Kokoro._"

"Someone's name?"

"Painful, or Hurt, Heart," she translated.

"Sounds fun. Perhaps an enchanter at the Mage Guild can tell you what its capable of doing."

"I can't wait to show it to Jauffre." With a grin, she clipped the blade back into its sheath.

"_Itai Kokoro ..._" The Drow crouched next to her and slipped the katana from her hands. Unsheathing it once more, he admired its craftsmanship and balance before giving it a sharp swipe through the air.

The Akaviri-Altmer frowned, caught his arm, and took her katana back. "This is _my_ sword from the Kawauta clan. You already have a magical weapon. I don't know which of my family it belonged to, but it makes up for losing the one that belonged to my grandfather."

"But you might lose this one, too. I'm a blades specialist. I could take better care of it. Besides, just think how bad-ass it would look _shwooshing_ alongside Spider Bite."

The bard scowled and pushed the chest back into place. Then, cradling her new sword to her chest, she turned to leave the basement.

The warrior chuckled at her possessiveness, but followed her up the stairs and pulled the office door shut behind them.

Both elves walked back through the city streets toward the stables, but stayed close by each other this time, scanning the side alleys for any more assassins.

))((

Within a couple of days, messengers began returning with responses to Kielanai's letters.

Therana Relas had spoken to Countess Arriana Valga of Chorral. She had denied the request to send troops to Bruma because an Oblivion gate appeared outside of the city gates, and she couldn't leave Chorral defenseless. So, Therana rounded up some colleagues and took it upon herself to close the gate after hearing from the messenger how Kielanai had done it.

Korg mag-Uruk had spoken to Count Janus Hassildor of Skingrad. He had also denied the request to send aid to Bruma because of an Oblivion gate too close for comfort. But when the messenger related the story of how Kielanai and Daerazal showed Captain Burd and his men how to close the gate, Korg suited up in his heaviest battle armor and went on a smash-n-bash spree. No way was he going to let an elven bard have all the fun.

The message was similar from Elaren Phaeras of Anvil and all the other cities to which she had sent letters. When the last letter arrived, however, the bard was moved to tears. "Savlian Matius," she spoke with a soft, sad smile.

Daerazal had come from the kitchen to see who was at the door. He saw the letter in her hand and the messenger at the door, but she could tell he was lost at the mention of the name.

"He was the captain of the guards in Kvatch. In spite of all his losses, he is willing to send me the remainder of his troops."

"I think that's the first time you've smiled about anything concerning what happened in Kvatch," the dark elf answered, pleased.

The messenger at the door grinned. "The guards from Kvatch came with me and are already setting up camp at the castle," he reported.

"Sounds like Bruma has just as many friends as you do," Daerazal added.

Kielanai wiped her eyes. "Let's take these to Jauffre and Martin." Hugging the messenger in gratitude and excitement, the gold elf rushed to grab her armor and new katana.

))((

When Kielanai and Daerazal walked into the great hall of Cloud Ruler Temple from the blizzard conditions outside, Jauffre spotted the enchanted katana at her hip. "I see you found it."

Kielanai grinned with pride. "_Itai Kokoro_. Too bad I don't know what it does yet."

"Oh, I can tell you exactly what it does. It's enchanted with a soul trap and damage health charm. One or two strikes with that, and even the toughest creatures can be bound into the weapon itself. Like I said earlier, it's an exquisite piece of work."

Daerazal's brows rose, and he looked to the katana once more.

Kielanai caught the covetous look in his eye and put a jealous hand over the hilt. Then, she presented the letters to Jauffre. "All of Cyrodiil, except the Elder Council, is coming to Bruma's aid," she proudly announced.

"I knew I could count on you," Jauffre assured her with a broad smile as he accepted the letters. "I'll take these to Martin at once. Wait here. I'm sure he'll want to have a word with you before you go back to town."

When the Grandmaster left, Kielanai noticed that Martin's dark magic with their recovered artifacts had already begun. A large circle with ominous looking arcane symbols had been drawn on the open floor space before the grand fireplace. One space in the circle was left open—the eastern side opposite the glowing blue aura of the great welkynd stone. The bard's excitement over the coming of their allies began to fade with the reality of what was coming next.

"I've seen those kinds of circles before in Menzoberranzan," the Drow spoke low to her ear, to avoid the guards overhearing. "They're enchanted with holding and warding spells so that summoned demons can't go beyond them. He's summoning a portal instead of a demon, so that's why he needs the sigil stone. But he's taking precautions as if it were a demon so that nothing can come out. That means this Paradise gate may be a one-way trip." His attention shifted from the magic circle to her.

"Martin's plan frightens me," she admitted.

"Because of the great gate? Treat it the same as the other two. The only reason it's bigger is because they want to push a siege engine through it."

"But that's what frightens me. I can't fight something like that—not even with a sword like this."

"A siege engine may have no life of its own, but the demons running it will have souls to rend and bodies to bleed," the Drow reminded her with a hint of macabre anticipation.


	14. Chapter 14: Unsung Heroes

Chapter 13: Unsung Heroes

Martin Septim's dragonscale boots crunched in the snow as he paced, waiting for his elite warriors to line up with Captain Burd's Bruma guards and the guards supplied by cities all across Cyrodiil.

Kielanai, now wearing daedric armor stolen from one of the Dremora killed during their last run through the plane of Oblivion, was also nervously pacing a short distance behind them. She didn't like the fact that this was going to be her third run into that horrible plane, but more than that she disliked seeing their future emperor out here, vulnerable just like any other man. Martin, however, was the kind of person that hated sitting idle while others around him suffered. It was the kind of quality that would make him a good emperor ... if he survived this.

"Do you want me to do this one for you?"

The Akaviri-Altmer came out of her thoughts about the heir to notice the Drow standing beside her.

"Both of us going in might slow things down—trying to keep track of each other and all. I'm willing to take this one on my own ... if you want," he offered.

It was tempting, but ... "No." She wanted to take it back as soon as she heard herself say it. But as she listened to Martin rally to the troops lined up before him, she reminded herself that her answer was based on logic, not desire. "Martin Septim is the _one _person among us that _absolutely_ _must_ survive this battle. You are among the few fast enough to cut down whatever threatens him. If I fall, if Bruma falls, you must be the one to bring him out alive and take him to safety somewhere else."

He didn't seem to agree. "I'm not your Emperor's personal bodyguard. If the siege engine breaks through, they will hunt him down no matter where he goes. The priority is getting the stone and shutting the gate before the engine fires."

She shook her head. "As long as Martin survives, there's a chance to try again. You're not protecting a man, Daerazal, you're protecting _hope_. Martin's our only hope to end this crisis."

The Drow still didn't like it. "Fine, but speed is what's going to count this time, understand? You can't stop for _anything_ once that gate opens. You have to outrun that engine."

"Kielanai." A red-headed man suited up in Imperial Legion armor strode toward her, interrupting their conversation. "I couldn't believe Ocato denied troops to Bruma, so I came as soon as I heard the news. If I had even half of my old unit back—"

"Durain Sharl!" The bard gave him a big hug and drew back with a small grin in attempt to offset her anxious demeanor. "What are you doing here?"

Therana stepped from behind him with a wave and winked at Daerazal before answering for their mutual legion friend. "Coming out of the road to Chorral, we ran into a messenger that said no troops were coming from Imperial City. So, we knocked on Sharl's door on the way north and asked him to come north with us. You don't honestly think we'd let him run away to some farm out in the countryside when there's work to be done here, do you?" the Dunmer added with a grin.

"Once in the Legion; always in the Legion," Korg answered, folding his large arms over his chest. The orc from Skingrad was here, too.

"Besides ... we have a new emperor to protect," another familiar voice added from behind her. Elaren, the Altmer mage from Anvil, stood next to Daerazal, giving him a cautious glance, as if he had not expected to find him still hanging around for Cyrodiil's crisis in light of his own. "All is well with your home, my dear," the gold elf reported. "I only wish I could say the same for my slippers. Your _kitten_ seems to have taken a liking to them and has chewed them worse than a teething pup."

The bard couldn't help but smile at the mention of her baby cougar. She missed him terribly.

The Drow, however, seemed a bit bewildered by the cohesiveness of the gathered company. "You all know each other?"

"I met Durain at the Arcane University some time back," Kielanai answered, grinning from ear to ear at the fact that all of them had come to Bruma's aid over and beyond the call of duty. "He told me a story about some unfortunate events that broke apart their unit—the reason they all left the Legion. It's a long story, but he asked me to keep an eye out for his friends during my travels. So, he's the one that indirectly introduced me to everyone else."

The bard became saddened by the reason for their reunion this time. "I never would have asked any of you to go into those Oblivion gates for me, if I'd known that was the price for bringing aid to Bruma. I know how awful it is because I had to go into Oblivion myself on two occasions. I can't thank you enough for what you've been through to bring more warriors here to help."

"Only twice?" Durain asked with wry amusement. "I've heard that the Hero of Kvatch has been closing Oblivion gates all over Cyrodiil." He glanced to his friends, who seemed to share his amusement.

Kielanai blinked in bewilderment. "Who?"

"You," Elaren clarified. "They're calling you the Hero of Kvatch. It was _your_ battle cry and _your_ letters that were presented and accepted. As far as the Countess is concerned, the task of closing the gate fell to you. I was only the messenger. The same was true for everyone else you contacted. The counts didn't care who closed the gates as long as the gates were closed. And they were small gates—not like the one outside of Kvatch—so we did what we had to do."

Kielanai frowned at this news. "What I did at Kvatch has been blown out of proportion, and you all deserve the credit for your own accomplishments. I'll write tales for each and every one of you to set the record straight when I return from Akavir."

"Akavir?" Durain picked up this bit of news for the first time. "Why would you want to go there?"

Kielanai glanced to Daerazal, not certain how much to say about it. "I'm ... looking for family," she admitted without specifying whose.

"Oh, I remember now. You once said you were of Akaviri heritage. Tall, golden ... yes, yes. I can see the snake-like resemblance now." He gave a light wink.

She took the joke in stride. "I never claimed to be Tsaesci. My father's family was human. I just happen to look more like my mother—an Altmer."

"Actually, I think she is part Tsaesci," Daerazal inserted. "I've seen her fangs, and she made a potion just a few nights ago that hides scaly skin."

Kielanai gave his shoulder a light punch for the tongue-in-cheek commentary. "_Dry _skin, not _scaly_ skin. And that was nothing but a moisturizing lotion." And how dare he reference her close call with vampirism like that.

Durain chuckled lightly and nodded thoughtfully. "You know, if you're looking for hired hands to join your expedition to Akavir, I know someone who would love to join you. His name is Rindaalyn Zhiannizhian. He's a Dunmer Ashlander living near Vos."

Daerazal's brows drew together. "Why would an Ashlander want to go to Akavir?"

"He _also_ believes he's the descendant of a Tsaesci." Humored, he looked to the bard as he said it. "Rindaalyn's always had an interest in the place."

"You're as bad as he is," Kielanai answered his continued teasing, nodding toward the Drow. "Not one drop of my blood is Tsaesci. Humans _do_ still exist in Akavir."

"Whatever you say, Hiss," Durain answered in amusement.

Everyone in the group chuckled lightly.

"Something's happening," Daerazal interrupted and pointed. The heir had finished his speech to encourage the troops, and now they were shifting into formation.

"I'll write down where you can find Rindaalyn when this is over," Durian promised, as he pulled on his helm and left with his comrades to join the defensive line as the first of the small gates erupted from the rocky, snow-covered ground.

Steaming lava hissed around the base of the black gate, but then it burst into flames and was engulfed in teleportation magic.

"Let's go!" Therana patted Daerazal's armored backside before flipping her bow from her back and running to join them.

Daerazal's eyes widened slightly, but then he frowned at Kielanai as she were responsible. "You really do need to control her, you know."

"If you truly wanted her to stop harassing you, you'd tell her to stop."

Daerazal sighed and put on his own helm. "Be fast," he reminded her. "And … careful," he added with a measure of hesitation. Leaving her side and jogging to Martin and Jauffre, he updated them on the change in the plan and took his place near them.

Kielanai checked her armor and supply pack one last time before drawing her sword ... and waiting.

For a few seconds nothing happened. Then, daedra of all kinds began to stream through the shimmering gateway. Martin gave the command to attack.

The bard charged forward with everyone else, but stayed out of the central battle, selecting anything that strayed away from the pack. In a mere three hits, _Itai Kokoro_ felled a powerful xivilai and absorbed the creature's soul into one of several empty gems she bought from the guild before the battle. Having so easily dispatched of one demon, she was encouraged to seek out another.

When the second and third small gates opened, more of the same streamed from them, and soon the battlefield filled with intense combat. The third gate would be opening any time now.

Kielanai withdrew completely to the sidelines behind a tree, grabbed a filled soul gem from her belt, and merged it into her katana with a harsh hit to the hilt. As the renewed blade flashed its deadly magic, she checked over her shoulder toward Martin. He was holding his own very well between Jauffre and Daerazal. There was still hope.

Then, the ground rumbled and shook as the largest gate she had seen since the invasion of Kvatch broke through the dimensional planes. Rows of daedra appeared behind the shimmering barrier and then leaped through it to materialize in front of them. Kielanai nervously licked her chapped lips, but then darted forward, shoving her way between two Dremora to run past them and leap back into Oblivion.

She was ambushed on the other side—as usual. This time her enchanted katana made the work much easier. It drained the energy and soul of every demon that attacked. However, each time she knocked one down, another demon took its place. In a purple haze of magical residue and lots of demon bodies, the Akaviri-Altmer soon began to fret that she would never break through their enclosure. She desperately needed an opening.

_"A properly placed kick can be a great secondary weapon. Use it to open your opponent, so that your sword can be more effective. … Side kick has the greatest reach for targets below the waist. … Use a thrust kick instead of a snap ..."_

With a growl, the bard thrust a boot sideways into a little scamp's gut. The kick knocked him flat on his back, but instead of moving in for the kill, she leaped over him and ran.

Rounding the corner in the path, she spotted fire traps ahead of her and scanned the foreboding horizon for the silhouette of the main tower. It would be impossible to reach without going up one of the smaller satellite towers and across a bridge.

Without stopping, she drank down a Resist Fire potion and raced right through the middle, setting off nearly every trap. There wasn't enough magic to protect her from all of them, so the last one gave her exposed flesh nasty burns and singed her hair.

She quaffed down a healing potion and pitched the bottle at a daedric spider ahead of her. The bottle did nothing to remove the obstacle from her path, of course, but as the nimble spider backed away to cast magic, the bard sprinted toward her with increasing speed and plowed into her with enough momentum to push her into a lava pool to the left. Path cleared, Kielanai kept running.

Inside the door of the satellite tower, the bard started to ascend a spiraling ramp under tortured, hanging corpses, when a Dremora intercepted her with a bastard sword. He slashed toward her neck, but her armor took the brunt of the hit across the chest. The strength of it knocked her back down the ramp, just as it had the first time she encountered one of these demons, but this time, she rolled onto her shoulder to cushion her fall and grabbed another healing potion. After quickly drinking it down, she dodged another attack and hit a lever in the wall to bring down the corpse masher. She was determined to go up to that bridge one way or another.

The Dremora sprang at her to push her between the bloody spikes underneath the descending machinery, but she dodged again and darted past him to make a second attempt up the spiral ramp. Running after her, he struck from behind. Kielanai stumbled from the hit, but resisted the urge to turn and fight. Instead, she kept running up the narrow ramp. He struck her again and knocked her to her knees, but she pulled herself back up and kept running.

When he struck her down a third time, she stayed down, but kicked a long leg backwards, as Daerazal had done to her to get her out of his way in the fight with the first vampire. It was enough to unlock her pursuer's stance on the precarious ledge and send him off the ramp onto one of the spikes sticking through the corpse masher below them.

Scrambling to her feet to make up for lost time, Kielanai ran the rest of the way up the ramp toward the door. When she threw it open to run across the bridge, however, she skidded to a halt. Pebbles beneath her toes tumbled a long way down into a fiery stream of molten lava beneath her. This bridge was broken. She had mistaken it for one of three other bridges in a multi-level labyrinth that connected all the satellite towers to each other and the citadel.

It was a horrible discovery because she could _see_ the door to the main tower right across the lava stream. She could also see the siege engine rumbling toward the great gate's portal—a reminder that she couldn't waste any more time running through more ground passages, towers, and daedra to find the correct bridge. So ... she jumped.

The fall seemed suspended from her viewpoint, but it was only seconds before she landed, slipped, and fell from the other half of the broken bridge. Though the edge of the lava stream was more shallow than she first feared, excruciating heat burned through her daedric boots and greaves. Kielanai struggled to pull herself up the embankment and drank two more healing potions. But as steam from the cooling magma hardened on her semi-melted armor, she crawled up the rocky slope toward the ground door to the main tower's entrance. The pavement was beyond her reach, but she jumped, caught the ledge with her fingers, and dragged herself over the foundation.

Two Dremora immediately responded to her arrival, but _Itai Kokoro_ made short work of both the swordsman and the archer. Drawing a breath and checking her weapon's charge, she paused to cast a few healing spells on herself and drank a night-eye potion. Then, she pushed open the citadel door.

As with the other gates, the interior was pitch black except for the pillar of red light that was being drawn from the sigil stone high above her into the fiery depths of the plane itself. Two more daedric spiders and two more Dremora advanced toward her, ready to stop her at all costs. Four on one—not a fight she could hope to win alone, but there was no time for fighting anyway.

Desperate to avoid them, Kielanai ran around the central beam of magic, dodged a bolt of magic from one of the daedric spiders, and pushed through the door that led up to the second level. She could hear them coming after her, and she could see more daedra drawing their weapons at the top of the ramp. But worst of all, she knew that by running to the top of the tower, there would soon be nowhere else to run, if she failed to get the stone.

Driven by that and the thought of how close that siege engine was to the portal, she dodged, blocked, parried, and suffered her way past them through the corridor, gaining an ever-growing tail of angry daedra behind her. She skirted some blade traps and continued up the levels until she finally reached the Sigillum Sanguis.

Bursting through it, she scanned the darkness, located the guardian Dremora, and chose the path of least resistance to the top. The mob of daedra guarding the citadel were on her heels every inch of the way, throwing magic at her back and knocking her down when they got close enough to deliver any kind of hit.

Broken and bleeding, breathless and weak, Kielanai finally dropped to her knees before the large black sigil stone and its hellish red magic. Various weapons rose behind her to strike the killing blow, but not before she reached out to drag the stone from its pedestal. As she cradled it to her chest and bowed her cheek to its humming, vibrant surface, explosions ripped through both planes. Pieces of the gate assembly shattered and shot in all directions. Blistering heat, white light, deafening sound ... silence ...

The bard was certain she had died, but then groaned in discomfort at the burning sensation of ice and snow against her cheek. She could hear cheering in the background, and when she managed to lift her head, she could see the smoking siege engine, caught and crushed in the gate's collapse, just in time. The sigil stone was on the other side of the siege engine. They had both been thrown pretty far from the portal during the teleport explosion this time. Footsteps crunched through the snow as someone ran to her, but she didn't have the will or the strength to stand.

"Kielanai!" Daerazal hovered over her and tried to help her sit up. "You did it!" he congratulated her, amid the cheers of the overjoyed warriors behind him.

"Martin?" she asked through dry, blistered lips as she panted through a misty attempt to catch her breath.

"He's over there." The Drow pointed out the heir's golden armor being saluted and cheered on in the midst of the crowd.

Kielanai sighed with relief, but she could tell, even at her distance, that Martin's expression was strange. He appeared to be torn between great joy and great sadness. She looked back to the Drow, noticing that his excitement over the battle's outcome was also tempered with something she couldn't place—not sadness, but regret. "Something's wrong."

The Drow didn't bother to deny it. "There were heavy losses."

"Losses?" With his help, the bard stood and scanned the battlefield strewn with bodies of demons and men. All of her personal friends were joining in the celebration cheers, but then her eyes settled on the prone figure of the Blades Grandmaster. "Oh no!" She doubled in disbelief. "Not Jauffre!"

"He was with Martin right to the end," Daerazal assured her.

"No!" The Akaviri-Altmer shook her head in grief and stumbled across the snow to kneel beside him, where she buried her face in her hands and cried.

))((

Daerazal, knowing nothing he could say about their victory would comfort her at the moment, side-stepped to collect the great stone and take it to Martin. "The final item needed for the Paradise portal," he said as he offered it.

"Won at a terrible price." Martin accepted the sigil stone with a grateful nod, but his eyes drifted past the Drow to the Altmer. "She looks like she needs a healer."

"I'll take her to the chapel when she's ready to leave."

Martin was silent for a long, sad moment as he stared across the battlefield, trying not to release his personal feelings at a time when the surviving warriors still needed his leadership. "Jauffre was like family to me, but I didn't realize she was that close to him."

"She's not." The Drow followed the heir's gaze back to the bard. "She just has a big heart, and he was one of many friends that filled it."

"To be called 'friend' is a title more valuable than Grandmaster or Emperor." Martin capped a hand down onto the dark elf's shoulder. "I must take care of Jauffre and the others, but then I'll be waiting in the temple to see this thing through to the end ... whenever the two of you are ready."

))((

Brief last rites were said for Jauffre and the other soldiers at the location of their defeat, surrounded by the remaining Blades, but then his body was taken to Weynon Priory, where he had lived most of his days as a simple monk.

The day after that, Martin was at his table, among his books, staring at the pages of the _Mysterium Xarxes_, but still feeling an incredible sense of loss, when the large doors to the great hall opened. Kielanai and Daerazal had returned to him. It was time to make one more attempt to get the amulet back.

He stood as they approached. "I know we all wish we could be meeting again under better circumstances, but … I'm ready to do this if you are."

The two elves both nodded.

"Once I open the portal I must reseal it to prevent anything from coming back through. It will be up to you to find a way back. Though I suspect there is some kind of anchor in Camoran's Paradise connecting it to this world, just as with the Oblivion gates. Do you have everything you need?"

Both elves solemnly nodded again.

"Very well then. I wish you luck." Martin went to stand before the grand fireplace. Calling upon previous studies of the dark arts, he invoked strong, forbidden magic to connect himself to the key in the demonic book.

The drawn images on the pages of the book twisted and turned as they spun to unlock the proper dimensional plane. Then, a small portal similar to the Oblivion gates, rose from the rites written into the floor's magic circle.

The gold elf drew a determined breath and stepped across the circle. After she passed through the portal, the dark elf gave the heir once last glance. He clearly didn't like his fate being left in the hands of the next Emperor of Tamriel, but he left it to reluctant trust and followed the other elf into the portal.

As soon as the otherworldly dark elf disappeared, the portal exploded with a sudden, deafening collapse. Flames briefly scorched the stone and wood floor of the great hall, but then they disappeared with their gate, leaving the smell of ozone and silence in its wake.

Martin hoped he did the right thing. If the elves couldn't kill the Mythic Dawn's cult leader and find their way back from this other dimension, all of Tamriel would suffer the summoning of Mehrunes Dagon. And he felt as powerless as any commoner to stop that from happening.

))((

To Kielanai's surprise, she arrived on the other side of the portal in the most beautiful landscape she had ever seen.

"Looks like there's only one road." Daerzal indicated the white stone path that meandered gently through a twilight colored forest surrounded by a peaceful ocean.

They had only gone a short distance, however, when they spotted a woman being attacked by a frost atronach. Running to help, Kielanai cast two fireballs into the ice demon, melting away half of its side, and Daerazal finished it off by hacking the rest of the way through it. When it was over, the bard crouched over the woman's body and felt for a pulse, but they were too late. Standing her full height, she gazed out over the pastel, serene landscape and was able to see still more powerful daedra wandering around freely in the distance. "Strange paradise, when death is all around."

"Welcome," a disembodied voice spoke. "I knew you'd come."

Kielanai glanced to her companion to see if he had also heard it. Judging by the look on his face, he had. That answered the question about whether Mankar Camoran had been scrying on them in Imperial City. The cult leader proceeded to explain his gardens and master plan to raze the current world and bring about a new mythic age of creation. The elves did their best to ignore the speech and pressed forward to hunt for the speaker.

In a short time, they came upon another human—this time a man, standing alone. Kielanai jogged toward him to question him about where to find Camoran, and he informed her that the people populating the dimensional portal were actually dead members of the Mythic Dawn cult. Promised an afterlife in a paradise, they were instead being tortured, killed, and resurrected on a regular basis. He gladly directed Kielanai to look for Camoran in the Forbidden Grotto, a place that could only be entered by wearing the Bands of the Chosen, bracers given to Camoran's favored Dremora, Kathutet.

"Enchanted bracers … I want dibs on the demon," Daerazal spoke as they continued down the white stone path, keeping their weapons drawn and watching for more daedra.

"You can have him. I claim Camoran," Kielanai answered.

He cast her a side-glance of doubt. "A powerful wizard like that? Are you sure?"

"As much as I've gone through to get that amulet, for the honor of those who died defending their city from his gates ... for Jauffre ... Camoran's ass is mine."

Daerazal smirked at the high elf's desire to avenge wronged loved ones showing up at a time like this. "Sounds pretty vicious coming from a bard. Are you planning to taunt him to tears, bore him with bad jokes, or negotiate a peaceful compromise?"

The gold elf cut him a sharp look of disdain. "Considering how many lives he's destroyed, he is a disgrace to the _entire _elven race. He will give up the amulet, or he will die. There will be no negotiations."

"Hmm ... no mercy. Maybe I was wrong about you being a pitiful Drow. In fact, maybe I should let you do the blade work from now on, and I'll handle the negotiations." Daerazal spotted his claim standing guard at an Ayleid-style arched bridge ahead of them, but as they drew closer, even in plain sight, the Dremora did not charge them. "Let's see if I can talk him into giving me those bracers," he spoke as if suggesting a new game to play. Excusing himself, he jogged forward without her.

At first, Kielanai was stunned, and angered, that he would have a change of heart now to negotiate with, of all people, a _demon_. But she soon discovered that the Drow's idea of dialog involved slicing both blades across the Dremora's throat _while_ he was negotiating ... before he could draw his own weapon in defense. Shaking her head, she closed the distance between them and stopped at his side. "Nice negotiating skills."

"He wanted me to do a favor for him," the Drow explained while placing the bracers on his own wrists. "Something tells me this enchantment isn't a very good one. Probably only connected to the door rather than actually being worth anything," he added, somewhat disappointed.

"What favor?"

"I don't know. I got a little impatient while he was telling me about it." He grinned and headed to the door to fit the enchanted bracers into the lock.

Kielanai sighed as if the Drow's civility was a lost cause, now that he no longer honored his vow not to spill the first blood in a conflict. But then she looked down at the Dremora's corpse and felt oddly fortunate. Judging by the size of this demon, she knew the battle could have been much worse if the Drow had not drawn first blood.

Once Daerazal had the door open, the high elf followed him down the tunnel into a flooded grotto. Water seeped uncomfortably into their armor, and the scent of daedra dung was heavy in the stale, moldy caverns. But what disturbed her most was the ascended cultists that stood huddled together, watching their entrance. Some of these faces she recognized from the infiltration of the shrine and the spy raid. The two assassins that Daerazal killed in Imperial City were probably here somewhere, but now they all cowered like slaves, rather than attacking them on sight.

"The true nature of a promised paradise revealed," Kielanai whispered, resisting the urge to sympathize and reminding herself that this was a just reward for these zealots.

"They've been betrayed," Daerazal answered her thoughts with his own. "Can you see okay?"

"Yes." She had some Nighteye potions, but so far there was enough daylight streaming through the ceiling cracks. "Do you still have your Chameleon potions?"

"Yeah, but there's no way to sneak quietly in this water." All the same, he moved slowly and deliberately, rising out of the flooded area to cross a stalagmite-filled cavern toward a red-glowing tunnel ahead.

Kielanai stopped at the corner of an open area and peered around the rocks to find a scene that was almost as bad as Oblivion itself. Large beating hearts of tortured souls hung from talon frames to serve as storage pouches for the Dremora that patrolled the area. A lava gorge cut through the hot rock formations, and caged cultists hung over it, guarded by other favored cultists and a variety of lesser daedra. One of the Dremora lowered a man into the lava, laughed, and then raised the lever to lift him up. Kielanai quickly turned away, unable to look upon the grotesquely disfiguring burns the prisoner had been given. "A paradise with a built-in torture chamber? What kind of paradise is that?" she complained with a hushed voice.

"Someone's coming," the Drow hissed and readied his weapons as one of the hooded ascended mortals sneaked toward them, but then coaxed them near to speak.

Kielanai exchanged a cautious glance with Daerazal, but they were both curious enough to listen to what he had to say, since he wasn't attacking or alerting anyone else to their presence.

"You've come to kill Mankar Camoran, haven't you?" the ascended mortal whispered. "I'd like to help."

The bard remained suspicious. "Who are you, and why would you want to help?"

"My name is Eldamil." He explained that he was the leader of the siege upon Kvatch and proposed a plan that involved taking them as prisoners to get them through the compound more quickly.

"I am _not_ teaming up with you," the gold elf icily answered. "Do you have any idea how many people died because of your invasion of Kvatch? I'm the one that had to close your stupid gate, and I lost all of the guards that went with me," she hissed. "I have half a mind to—"

The dark elf held an arm between the angered bard and the cultist. "We'll do it."

The bard turned on her partner, dismayed. "_What?_ He's a murderer!"

"So am I." The Drow's eyes narrowed with the reminder concerning his true heritage. "A disgrace to the _entire_ elven race," he threw her earlier words back at her. "But you told me back in Bruma that wanting to help now is more important than the mistakes of the past. Do you want a _hero_, or do you want _help_?"

The gold elf didn't know what to say. The very idea of working with the human who designed the Kvatch invasion made her sick to her stomach, and she fretted that he would be betray them. She had excused Daerazal's confessions about his own dark past, because she needed his help. But perhaps she felt differently about his situation because she didn't know him back then—didn't know the details of his deeds the way she was aware of everything that happened in Kvatch.

"Take her as your prisoner," the Drow suggested to Eldamil. "I'll shadow you." Pulling the Chameleon bottle from his supplies, he drank it down and disappeared into an ethereal form.

"I cannot be responsible for what happens to you if you are found," Eldamil warned as he chained the Akaviri-Altmer in iron manacles.

"I, however, will be fully responsible for what happens to you if you hurt her," the invisible Drow returned, letting the traitor know there was more than one reason he insisted on remaining unseen. Removing his boots, he tucked them into his supply pack.

Eldamil acknowledged Daerazal's threat and took Kielanai with him toward the lava gorge. A Dremora intercepted them, and Eldamil was ordered to cage her, which he did. As the cage was lowered into the lava pit, Kielanai thought she saw the Drow's shadow-form hop onto the top of the cage to grasp the top chain. But the groaning and clicking of the chains made her wonder if his additional weight was too much for single-prisoner device.

Kielanai became nervous as the cage continued to descend. She was about to cry out in protest to the traitorous human, when the cage came to a halt just above the boiling magma. Dropping her head against the hot bars, the elf tried to breathe easier as the cage rose once more.

"Sorry about that." Eldamil whispered as he opened the door to release her on the other side of the pit. "A necessary ruse to get rid of the others. This way."

Kielanai heard Daerazal hop from the top of the cage onto the rock ledge and follow into the next chamber.

Eldamil led them through the entire torture complex, with only a few minor skirmishes involving wandering daedra, and opened the doorway into Camoran's private sanctuary. It was even more beautiful than the first half of the gardens they had seen. Built in the same architectural style as Ayleid ruins, these gleaming white stones seemed brand new. Colorful morning glory vines climbed the palace walls, and the golden-wrought door shimmered with pale blue magic.

Kielanai was so awed for a moment that she felt as if she truly had stepped back to a mythic age. Half-expecting to see ancient Ayleids roaming the courtyard, she was disappointed to be greeted instead by another ascended cultist—Ruma Camoran, Mankar's daughter.

With contempt, Ruma glared down at them from the steps of her father's palace. "So, you think you can stop us?" She allowed herself a smug chuckle. "Soon, Mehrunes Dagon will walk Tamriel for the first time since the Mythic Age. You can try to stop _us_, but there is nothing you can do to stop _him_. Come! My father awaits your audience." Ruma turned and led the way past her brother, Raven, into the golden oak gates of Carac Agaialor.

Mankar Camoran was seated on a throne at the end of the entrance hall, and his children took their places beside him. The king of this demented empire smiled as the Akaviri-Altmer and her two supporters advanced without a word. "We meet at last." He stood to greet her.

Camoran started to talk about himself and his plans for his future kingdom, but the bard wasn't interested in what he had to say. Instead, she was anticipating what kind of magic he could throw at her.

_"Giving away any advantage you may have over your opponent is stupid."_

Kielanai considered Daerazal's mini-lesson in Drow tactics again, but saw no advantages for herself over this powerful wizard ... except for the fact that her own tales were much more lively than his egotistical drivel.

_"I got a little impatient …"_

Gritting her teeth, the bard rushed forward with _Itai Kokoro _leading the way, running it straight through the wizard's unguarded robes. It was a deadly wound, but death did not come instantly because Kielanai's soul gems weren't strong enough to trap this kind of soul.

Mankar was surprised—not by the attack, but by the fact that she didn't let him finish what he had to say. His two offspring immediately turned on the bard to pull her off of their father, but Daerazal and Eldamil rushed them from behind to pull them off of her. Mankar cast a blast of magic into Kielanai that ate a hole in her cuirass and staggered her aside. Then, he cast a powerful healing spell on himself and drew his enchanted staff to strike her again.

Kielanai dodged the second streak of magic by ducking and rolling under it, but then sprang to her feet and rushed in hard and fast, slicing beneath the staff. The mage healed himself again and cast a protection spell on himself, but then ran down the stairs of the dais to gain the distance necessary for another offensive spell. Kielanai jumped from the top of the dais and dragged him to the ground with her.

Caught in a tight grapple that prevented either of them from using magic or sword, Camoran finally managed to slam the end of his staff up against her jaw and knock her away. Back on his feet, he healed himself and ran past his fallen son and the victorious Eldamil. He didn't even pause to acknowledge his loss, but once he was behind them, he did stop to level his staff toward the traitor. One blast finished him off completely. Now he had to choose between killing the bard or the Drow that was attacking his daughter. He turned his staff toward the bard.

"That amulet belongs to Martin Septim! Give it back!" Kielanai gritted her teeth and absorbed the breath-taking drain that hit her full force and passed through her like a tidal wave. Tightening her grip on her katana with both hands, determined not to let go in spite of how heavy it suddenly felt, she jumped over Raven and Eldamil's fallen bodies and sprinted after him.

Camoran ran toward the doors and turned to fire another deadly spell, but was surprised to find her already upon him. The mage threw up his staff in defense between himself and the wild female elf.

She struck the staff aside, kicked him back, and thrashed her katana across his shoulder and chest. But this time, she immediately followed it with a backhanded swing. Again and again she struck, not allowing him time to cast anything more as she steadily backed him toward the wall and wore down his protective spells.

))((

Daerazal finally managed to cut down Ruma when he noticed, to his dismay, that Raven and Eldamil were starting to rise again. "There's no way to kill them," he realized aloud. The Drow checked over his shoulder to the bard's fight with the mage. She had claimed this kill, and like a good Drow he was going to let her have it, but this changed everything.

"Kielanai!" He looked toward the stairs to the right and left of the corridor. Running up the right-hand side, he jumped down behind Camoran and hooked a strong arm around the mage's throat to surprise him and hold him. "You can't kill him! Grab the amulet!" Daerazal shouted.

As if determined to prove him wrong, Kielanai narrowed her aqua-colored eyes and drove her katana deep into the mage's heart. "That amulet ... belongs ... to Martin Septim!" she snarled at the mage again as she snatched the amulet from his throat.

Mankar gasped in protest, but then fell limp in the Drow's arms.

"He might not stay dead for long. They're killed and resurrected repeatedly, remember? We need to find the way out _now_, before they rise again," Daerazal warned. But as he let Camoran's body fall to the ground, he noticed that the other three had collapsed once more. "Wait ..." The Drow looked back to the defeated mage. "Camoran was still mortal. He hadn't ascended like the others. They've all been released from here now that he's dead."

Still trying to catch her breath, Kielanai slowly realized what that meant. "Martin had to bind himself to the book to open the gate because that's how Camoran created it. Our ticket out of here is right under our noses. It's Camoran."

The ground began to rumble and shake with incredible force. The entire realm of Paradise was on the verge of collapse with the death of its creator.

"He can't send us back now. He's dead." Daerazal anxiously looked up at the dust and debris starting to trickle and splinter from the cracks in the stone ceiling of the Ayleid palace. "We can't stay here."

"We have to stay here! He's the gate!" she defiantly insisted.

Within seconds, a massive quake shook the entire building, bringing it down around them, Daerazal jerked Kielanai to the floor and arched himself over her using his back as a shield against the falling debris. Kielanai reached out to grab Camoran's enchanted staff, and teleportation magic from the broken gate that was the mage's body completely engulfed them.

When the smoke and magic cleared, Captain Steffan, Baurus, and Martin rushed forward to pull the pair of elves off of the scorched and blackened magic circle to help them to their feet.

Daerazal coughed and winced, putting a hand to his injured back, but Kielanai shakily stood and removed her Daedric helm before confronting Martin and kneeling before him. No one said a word. They were too afraid to ask. The bard laid the staff of his enemy at his feet and lifted her hands to present the incredibly large ruby to the new Emperor. Such long endeavors to bring it back to him, but her promise to the Emperor and his son were finally fulfilled.

Already dressed in his coronation robes, because he had been hoping for the best, Martin took the item in his hands for a long, uncertain moment, but then slipped it around his neck. Nothing dramatic happened, but that was as it should be. It was safe with him.

"You see ..." Kielanai smiled. "You _are_ Uriel Septim's son."

"I didn't really need the amulet to tell me that. I may not feel like an Emperor, but I've felt your words were true ever since you told me in Kvatch. There's no time to waste, though. We must go to Imperial City without delay." He faced his faithful entourage of Blades and signaled them with a nod to finish preparations for the journey.

Kielanai rose and held the staff before him. "May I ... trade this for Jauffre's armor?" she humbly requested. "I would like to add it to the shrine in my grandfather's home."

"Certainly. He had no family outside of the Blades and the Priory, so I'm sure it would please them both to know that the fallen Grandmaster will continue to be honored elsewhere as well. It is people like him, and yourself, that are the true heroes of this crisis. I'll have Caius prepare his things and leave them in his room, so you can pick them up when this is over. You may keep the staff, too, if you like. You certainly earned it."

As Martin walked away, Kielanai moved to place the staff on his study table, unsure whether she wanted to keep it or not. The Drow came to her side, and she lifted her somber eyes to him. "Do you want it?"

The Drow shook his head. "I'm not a mage or a hero. Keep it with Jauffre's armor as a reminder of what he died for."

The bard looked back to the glowing staff. Though her duty to deliver the amulet was complete, the ultimate problem of stopping the Oblivion invasion had not yet been solved.

Knowing what she was thinking, Daerazal gave a silent nod that he was willing to see the rest of the task through to the end now.

Kielanai answered with a small, tired smile, and then they both followed the heir out to the stables.

As soon as enough horses were saddled for everyone riding with him, Martin galloped down the steep, serpentine road from Cloud Ruler Temple, sliding and kicking up small rocks and snow at every hazardous turn. Then, the thundering hooves of his warriors' steeds followed him around Bruma toward Imperial City at breakneck speed. The Dragon Fire had been extinguished for far too long.


	15. Chapter 15: Peace of Mind

Chapter 15: Peace of Mind

Upon arrival in Imperial City, Martin and his escorts went straight to the Palace and met with Chancellor Ocato in the Elder Council's assembly hall. On behalf of the Elder Council, Ocato accepted Martin's claim to the throne and knelt before him, passing rulership of Tamriel into the rightful heir's hands. But they were barely done with the impromptu ceremony when a Legion solider burst in to announce that Oblivion gates were now opening within Imperial City itself.

Tired and not properly prepared for another fight so soon after the previous one, Kielanai and Daerazal had no choice but to quaff down the last of their healing potions and draw their weapons once more.

Instead of ordering the guards to fall back to the palace and risking being trapped, Martin ordered them to clear a path to the Temple of the One. He had no sooner given the order than the doors to the Palace were forced open and several Dremora ran straight for him. The Palace guards and Imperial Blades surrounded the new Emperor to protect him, but Martin immediately drew his sword and fought back. The battle was mercifully short, but the fact that the daedra had been able to break through meant the Palace and the rest of the city were already under siege.

Outside the Imperial Palace, the sky had turned blood red, trees were aflame, and citizens fled in terror from all manner of daedra. Kielanai fought off two xivilai to cut her way toward the Temple district, but when she paused to check Martin's status behind her, she was slammed broadside into one of the iron street lamps by a Dremora swinging a heavy war hammer. Grabbing her injured shoulder and clenching her teeth in pain, she swiveled backwards to barely avoid a second strike.

Darazal jumped onto the stone wall behind the demon and then leaped toward it, slamming both feet into its back, banging the demon's face into the same iron post. Catching the lamp and swinging down, he dropped to his feet like an agile cat. "Martin's already out the door! Come on!" He snatched the bard's hand, practically dragging her with him in the race to catch up to the heir.

"My shoulder!" Kielanai winced, but sprinted alongside him through the chaos in the city streets. She hoped the others had already cleared the daedra out of the way at the temple, but when they arrived, they were met by a mountain-sized, four-armed daedric prince.

Martin stopped and turned to face his war party. "We're too late! Mehrunes Dagon is already here. Lighting the Dragon Fires will no longer save us. The barriers that protect us from Oblivion are gone."

"Can't we send him back?" Kielanai asked.

"I don't see how. Now that he is actually here, we have no power to destroy him."

"But ... what about the amulet? What good is the amulet and its covenant if it can't protect us when we need it most?"

"Wait, yes! The amulet was given to mortals by Akatosh. It has his divine power, but it was not intended as a weapon." Martin paused for a moment. "I have an idea. One last hope. I must reach the Dragonfires in the Temple of the One."

"But you said we were too late."

"You'll just have to trust me. I know now what I was born to do. But I need your help getting past Mehrunes Dagon."

"Are you crazy? We can't get past that? He's enormous!" The bard urgently responded, still gripping her painful shoulder.

"Watch your tongue when addressing the Emperor!" one of the guards near him snapped at her.

Kielanai drew back at the admonishment. Martin was so approachable, and the situation was so dire, that she had forgotten her place. The bard gave the Emperor an apologetic bow. "I'll get you to the temple ... Sire."

"I'll do the rest." Martin scowled at the guard that reprimanded her, but didn't reprimand him in return because he was just doing his duty without knowing the role the bard had played in the events unfolding. That scowl, however, was enough to let the guard know that he had made a mistake.

Daerazal looked over his shoulder at the demons rushing toward them. "Stay with him. Leave these guys to us," he told Kielanai. Then, he jumped over a fallen column and ran straight for the titan while the Blades pressed into the onslaught of daedra beneath him.

Seeing the small Drow slashing into the giant's thick lower leg made her think of that wasp annoying a bull again, but to the Prince of Destruction, the wasp's magnificent sting probably felt more like a mosquito bite. Kielanai left him to it, cast a healing spell on her shoulder, and fled with Martin past the preoccupied daedric prince.

When they reached the temple door, it was stuck, but she threw her newly healed shoulder into it until it gave way. Then, the elf grabbed the heir and pulled him into the temple with her, quickly bolting the door behind them. "My apologies, my lord," she anxiously added, in light of her rough treatment of his coronation attire and his royal person.

"No more formalities, please. You're my friend not my servant." Martin sheathed his sword, straightened his robes, and went to the far side of the temple where he tried to regroup his thoughts for a moment.

Admonished for being too close and then too distant, Kielanai sighed in weary confusion and put a hand to the door. Then, she looked across the open room to where he stood and walked to his side. "Now what?"

"I do what I must do. I cannot stay to rebuild Tamriel. That task will fall to others." The heir straightened and clasped her hands. "You've been a good friend in the short time I've known you, but now I must go. The Dragon awaits."

Kielanai didn't like the way this was sounding. "Dragon? What dragon?"

Martin mirrored her sadness for a moment, but there was no further time to explain it. Mehrunes Dagon used two of his four fists to break open the temple dome, tear down the wall, and step inside. He intentions were clear—destroy the last heir of the Septim dynasty and extinguish the Dragon Fires once and for all. The newly crowned Emperor left her side and ran to the center of the temple to get the demon prince's attention.

"Martin!" Kielanai started to run after him, but he smashed the amulet in the fire pit, and a light burst from it through his body, lifting him into the clouds. Then, out of those clouds burst a fiery, gold _dragon_.

Her father had told her stories of Akavir's dragons when she was a child, and dragons decorated many of her family heirlooms at home, but she had never seen a real one before—no one in Tamriel had. Tamriel had no dragons any more. _Who_ was this dragon he spoke of, then? _Martin? Akatosh?_

The gold dragon spat an inferno down upon the demon and then spear-headed straight into him before circling around him and landing. Mehrunes Dagon struck back with his fists and claws, attempting to tear the other mighty beast in half. He swung his great axe, but the dragon dodged it and spat another mouthful of white hot flames over him. The battle seemed as if it would rend the world itself in half.

Clamping his maw down into the demon's neck, the dragon held him in a death grip until the demon's struggle weakened. Then, the dragon released him, only to blast him with one more banishing inferno. Mehrunes Dagon roared in anger, but was forced to retreat back into his own plane.

The golden dragon, weakened from the incredible fight, drew back with unstable footing and tried to catch his breath. Lifting his head, he gave a full-throat roar of triumph that echoed across the land. Kielanai was then horrified to watch the golden dragon transform into solid stone.

"Martin?" She waited a moment to see what would happen next, but the stone dragon did not crumble. The mystical light that caused his ascension did not flare again. There was no dragon fire. And there was no sign indicating that the Septim heir would ever return.

"Martin!" She ran to the dragon's side. "Martin, you have to come back!" The statue's leg was so hot that it burned to the touch.

The elf pressed her forehead against it. "Akatosh … _why_? Why would you take him away from us? _This_ is the price of your bargain to protect Tamriel?" There was no response to her prayer, only the hissing and cracking of cooling rock against a backdrop of fires blazing and citizens screaming from the battle still being fought outside. Hot tears fell down her soot-smeared cheeks. She felt empty … betrayed. "One mortal life means nothing to you. But that one mortal life could have meant so much to our world. Akatosh … what have you done to us?"

A few minutes later, Chancellor Ocato rushed in the temple door. "What happened? Where's Martin? I must congratulate him! Mehrunes Dagon is defeated and Oblivion is sealed off once more!"

Kielanai met the chancellor's excited, bewildered stare with a pained expression, but then turned away to rest her cheek on the stone dragon's leg once more. "Martin's gone."

"_Gone?_ What do you mean _gone?_" Ocato took note of the bard's tears, looked again at the dragon statue left behind, and suddenly understood. "We saw the temple dome explode, and the avatar of Akatosh appeared in the sky. That ... was Martin?" He drew near in disbelief.

"He shattered the amulet."

"The divine blood of gods and kings ... "

"And Martin's blood, too."

"Then ... Martin _is_ gone." Ocato saddened. "But he died a hero to rival Tiber Septim. What an emperor he might have made."

His sentiment only made the bard's tears flow more freely at their loss.

))((

Daerazal overheard their conversation as he came into the temple. Gazing up at the dragon statue, he was somewhat surprised to realize he, too, was disappointed Martin had not survived his sacrifice to win the war. Mostly, though, he was relieved it was over.

When the High Chancellor had finished attempting to console the bard, he passed the dark elf on his way back out of the temple. "What about the Empire?" Daerazal asked, before the other gold elf could leave.

"This victory was not without cost," Ocato answered. "Martin's sacrifice was necessary, but it leaves the Empire without an emperor. I honestly don't know what will happen next. I fear there are more troubled times ahead." The Altmer tried to smile in spite of his uncertainty. "But let's not worry about the future right now. Let's just give thanks that we're alive!"

Daerazal left the High Chancellor and went to the bard's side. When he touched her shoulder, Kielanai turned and wrapped her arms around his neck to continue grieving Martin's loss. As the dark elf laid a hand to the gold elf's long silver hair in meager attempt to comfort her, he hoped that Martin somehow knew he would be missed as a friend, as well as an emperor.

))((

All over Imperial City, as Oblivion gates collapsed, word spread like wildfire that the crisis was over. Akatosh's avatar was seen and heard by almost everyone. And while the prospect of not having an emperor worried some, the desire to celebrate was more prevalent. That evening, every tavern in the city was filled with people toasting Martin Septim and the Legion soldiers. Even tiny Wawnet Inn was packed wall-to-wall with an overflow of celebrating citizens and travelers excited to hear the good news. When Daerazal went to purchase dinner and drinks, he had to push his way through the crowd to the bar, endure the congratulations of those who had seen him in action, and answer the questions of those who wondered why the bard wasn't there to lead the party. Then, he had to push his way back to the door to return to the alchemist's cottage across the street.

When he walked into the small kitchen, the fire was lit as when he left, but Kielanai was nowhere in sight. Setting the sack of food on the table, but clutching twin bottles of ale between his fingers, he headed up the stairs to check the alchemy room and bedroom. Puzzled that there was still no sign of her, he lifted his chin to peer through the cracks between the plank boards in the ceiling. Following a hunch, he went through the bedroom and up the second set of creaky wooden stairs to the attic loft.

Though the back half of the attic was still used for storage, the front half was rather cozy, converted into a second bedroom. The candles were lit, giving the room a warm, pink-and-amber glow, but it was a little dusty. The potted flowers in the windows had died due to neglect in Gwenyth's absence. Kielanai was easy to spot, curled up on the pink-blanketed bed with her back to the open entrance.

"Hungry?" he asked as he came to a stop near the top of the stairs.

"No," came the muffled, distant response.

Daerazal continued the rest of the way up the stairs past the railing. He crossed the haphazard plank flooring to the large, round rug where her bed was centered, then crouched at the edge. "You should have gone with me. You are in demand at the inn."

"I don't feel like celebrating."

"Do you at least feel like drinking?" He showed her the bottles of ale and set one down on the nightstand in order to open the other.

With a sigh, the bard sat upright and accepted the offering, but she did not drink it.

"I told them you were too tired from all the fighting we'd been caught up in recently." He sat cross-legged on the floor and leaned his head back against the bed as he took a long sip from his own bottle. "I know the High Chancellor has offered you that custom-made dragon armor, but I think we should head back to Cloud Ruler Temple tomorrow to speak with Caius. You can always pick up the dragon armor on your way back home ... along with Jauffre's armor."

She nodded in somber agreement. "Now that my mission is over, yours can properly begin. I apologize that it took so long. I hope we're not too late for your sister."

Daerazal picked lightly at the name and date label on his bottle. There was nothing he could say to that. Either they were, or they weren't. He had no way of knowing.

"It's a terrible feeling to lose a friend or family member. I often feel I lose more than I gain," she muttered.

He snorted and took another sip of his drink. "All you have to do is walk across the street to the inn to see how many friends remain."

"That's not what I mean. So far I've lost my entire family, Gwenyth, Jauffre, and now Martin. Everyone that ever mentored me, except Elaren, is lost."

"Speaking of mentors, I couldn't help but notice you used some pretty impressive kicks in your blade work lately. You were getting pretty ferocious out there. You'll have to tell me who your trainer is so I can compliment him on his teaching skills." He took another sip of ale.

A small smile curled the bard's lips. "He's a very good friend. I think you'd like him."

The Drow shook his head. "You collect friends like a dog collects fleas. Just because I showed you a few pointers doesn't mean I'm a 'very good friend'."

She brushed a tendril of silver hair behind her small, sharp ear and finally tasted her ale. "Each friend adds something unique to my life that none of the others can. Martin was humble. Jauffre was wise. My human mother was diligent. My real mother was kind. My father was courageous. Therana is fun. Elaren is dependable. And you … I still don't know what to think of you, but like it or not, I consider you a friend. I would be just as sad to lose you, now that I know you." The bard's brows drew together as if that thought, on top of her current losses, was too much.

He took another drink and swallowed it down. "But you _don't_ know me."

"I know enough."

"What you know is what I've told you because, as you said, we're partners in this venture. You don't want to know me any further beyond that."

"Why not?"

He rested an elbow on one knee. The hand holding the bottle of ale absently rubbed a finger under the bottom of his lip. "I've already told you why not."

"You mean the bit where you told me you were a slaver and murderer?" The bard moved from the bed to the floor to sit beside him in the same position. "You're right. That should be enough to make me absolutely despise you," she honestly admitted. "But these tales that you've told me ... I can't imagine them. I have trouble wrapping my mind around it. You show no remorse when you kill, yet you show great remorse _about_ that. So, this horrible person you claim to be is not the person I see."

"Then let's keep it that way, so you can have peace of mind." He started to stand, so he could leave.

She caught his arm, keeping him eye-level with her. "Why would your own slave free you if you were such an awful person?"

He became annoyed at her mention of that. "I don't know. You'd have to take that up with her."

Kielanai met his irritated glare with one of her own, but then her expression softened. "She loved you."

Daerazal pulled his arm free and crawled from his sandwiched position between the bard and the bed to stand once more. "She wanted me to free her friends from the house dungeon."

She stood to block him from leaving. "You just said you didn't know why she did it."

"It's complicated."

"Then, you loved her, too. I remember now. Back in Bruma, you said women were more trouble than they were worth. But she couldn't have freed you if she hadn't already been free herself. You freed her because you loved her ... but then something happened. You lost her somehow, didn't you?"

"I don't want to talk about it." He moved around her to head back down the stairs.

Kielanai followed him down through Gwenyth's bedroom and the alchemy room. "That's what you said in Bruma, too."

"Well, I _still_ don't want to talk about it." He headed down the second set of stairs into the kitchen.

"Is that why you don't want friends? Because you think something bad is going to happen to them?" She continued to follow.

The warrior set his bottle of ale on the kitchen table, gave her a baleful glance, and began to unwrap the sack of food he'd bought.

"You were up there telling me to appreciate the friendships I still have, yet you refuse to let me count you among them. You're afraid something's going to happen to me … like something happened to her. Did you have something to do with it?"

The Drow unwrapped the cheese wheel, but then slammed it down on the table and faced her with an angry glare. "I _said_ I don't want to talk about it!"

The bard looked gratified to know that she had not lost her talent at reading people, but at the same time, she looked ashamed that she had dug too deep and hit a nerve. "I'm sorry. It's just ... I thought ..." Kielanai shook her head. "Never mind. I'm sorry." She turned away to drink her ale by the fire.

Daerazal stared angrily at the items on the table, then leaned against it as he mulled over his thoughts. But eventually he sighed and rubbed his tired face. "You can't lose what you never gained."

The bard's chin shifted over her shoulder toward him, but she held her tongue this time.

"When the plan to sacrifice my sister failed to restore the Spider Queen's favor to our house, a handmaiden appeared and told my mother it was because Chizrae was still alive. The handmaiden said that a group of surface dwellers bound for Menzoberranzan at a particular underground outpost would be able to help us find _the murderer_. Of course, we were assuming the murderer was Chizrae, but the handmaiden didn't bother to tell us otherwise because the goddess of chaos likes to watch people squirm." The Drow looked to the Akaviri-Altmer to see if she remembered the complicated situation with Menzoberranzan house politics, so he wouldn't have to explain it again.

She gave a small nod to indicate that she understood.

"My mother ordered me to find these surface dwellers and interrogate them to see if they were helping Chizrae hide. So, I went to the outpost and pretended to join their caravan. There was ... a human girl among them. Mairiel Erthein sur-Elron." The name rolled off of his tongue as if he were introducing a princess.

Kielanai turned around to face him—to listen.

"She was the daughter of a highly decorated knight and a quarter moon elf on her mother's side - a dainty, virtuous, spoiled creature who could spend hours brushing her hair into a perfect bun. But she had been taken captive by goblins on the surface and managed to escape them while being transported through the Underdark to be sold at a slave market. Mairiel was lost in the wilds when our caravan ran into her. She was _very_ happy to find a measure of safety in the company of the other humans, and she became good friends with the Eilistraeen Drow in the caravan. She even tolerated the indifferent others, but Llothians represented everything she had been taught to despise.

"I thought she was rather worthless and weak at first, but she quickly proved how stubborn and strong she could be about anything concerning virtue and honor. She was always needling me about my Llothian morals, and I was always throwing it back at her how hypocritical crusaders could be." He shook his head and snorted in bittersweet amusement at the memories.

The bard lowered her gaze in mild shame. "She probably berated you for being a mercenary, too."

Daerazal nodded at the comparison. "Anyway, my attempt to question them diplomatically was getting me nowhere, so I paid the caravan driver to head them into a trap. He was Drow, so he didn't care. Easy money for him. We set up a false ambush, caged all of the surface dwellers, and shipped them back to my House Dungeon in Menzoberranzan. But when I interrogated them in the dungeon, they still didn't have a clue about who Chizrae was or what she had been accused of." He smirked in amusement. "Oh, how Mairiel hated me after that. Not only was I morally reprehensible, but I had betrayed her and thrown her right back into a slave pen."

Kielanai wasn't as humored as he was at his own treachery.

"So, when that interrogation failed, I began to suspect the handmaiden's vision was ... skewed. I thought, maybe these surface dwellers were more _indirectly _destined to lead me to Chizrae, rather than having the answers themselves. If so, the only way they could follow their fates was if a few of them were mobilized. Mairiel was so pathetically chained to her sense of honor and loyalty that I chose her as one of the few to release as my spies."

"You were counting on her loyalty to her slave master?"

"No, I was counting on her loyalty to her _friends_, some of which I kept in the dungeon as insurance policy that my spies would be good little slaves and not run away."

The gold elf frowned. "Of course you did."

"But to accuse a handmaiden of being wrong, or disagree with a matron priestess, has consequences. I was locked up as the next sacrifice. Mairiel found out what happened, broke back into the compound, and helped me escape on the condition that I would free her friends. After we escaped the city, I found out they _had_ turned up evidence that something wasn't right with the accusations against Chizrae, but now that I was a fugitive, I couldn't walk about the city to find out more about the conspiracy.

"I knew I couldn't manage them as slaves any longer, and I owed them for getting me out alive. So, I told them to go home. But the tunnels of the Underdark—particularly the wilderness beyond the cities—are pitch black and built like a multi-level maze. They're full of deadly predators well-adapted to hunting in the dark, so they're deadly even to those of us who live there if we take a wrong turn and get lost. The humans and light elves needed help finding their way back to the surface, so I struck a deal with them."

"What kind of a deal?" she warily asked.

"Since they were _my_ slaves, no one else handled them while they were in the compound. No one else had the chance to become familiar with them. So, in a city like Menzoberranzan, they might as well have been surface traders. If they could return to the city and continue to find proof of the conspiracy to clear my house name, I would lead them back to the surface."

The bard nodded as if that sounded reasonable … considering.

He quieted for a moment, not sure how to continue. "I think I held a certain appeal with Mairiel, even in the beginning, because I was a forbidden fruit ... you know? I mean, her father was a proper knight who tried to protect their people from people like me."

"Daddy's little girl out on her own learns life is a little more complex than she thought?" the bard guessed.

"And you have to understand, in Menzoberranzan relationships are nothing like what you find in surface societies. Llothian relationships are forced, manipulated, shallow ... disposable. Love, friendship, mercy, trust—these things are weaknesses that prove fatal when you allow someone to get too close. You never know who's using who, or for what purpose. Dare to take off your armor for a moment of pleasure, and that kiss on your back could be followed by a dagger. In Llothian society, there is no loyalty to anyone but self and Lloth. And sometimes, even Lloth comes second."

Kielanai visibly saddened at the thought of an entire society denying the most basic bonds of trust.

"Mairiel was ... kind … honest ... comforting to be with. Things I'd never known before in _anyone_, much less a _pale-skinned woman_. She's the one who helped me escape the Llothian brainwashing that controlled most of my life. She gave me a whole new world of possibilities." Daerazal reflected on his own words for a brief moment, but then gave his head a slight shake to clear the long white bangs from his crimson eyes.

"When the whole mess with Chizrae was over, I kept my word and led my surviving slaves back to the surface. But since Mairiel had been brought into the Underdark alone, I further escorted her back to the safety of her home." He gave a cynical snort. "Her father was more upset to see her come home with a Drow, than he was happy to see her come home."

The bard shook her head. "Poor her. Her father wasn't glad to have her back?"

"Of course he was. He was just more vocally disgusted with me." Daerazal moved closer to the fire and leaned against the side wall next to the mantle. "She invited me to stay at their estate anyway. She tried to help me adjust to living under the sun, away from the worship of Lloth. But she was always afraid of what her father thought of me. She hoped he would change his mind once he got to know me a little better, but ... I am what I am. And that simply wasn't good enough for her father and brother.

"After a while, she began to envision what her life would be like if we stayed together. She would end up being shunned by everyone she knew and loved. Any children we might have had would have been outcasts. She decided that it would only lead to misery for both of us and asked me to leave. Or maybe I volunteered to go. I don't remember." He folded his arms at his chest and stared at the gray, stone floor of the cottage.

The bard took a sip of her drink then lifted her eyes from the flames to the dark elf. "You must have loved her very much."

"I didn't know what I felt, but I began to think maybe Llothians had the right idea after all—except that now I hated Llothians." The Drow smirked at his own entrapment. "I had nothing to go back to in Menzoberranzan, so I went to Skullport. It's a pirate port located deep inside a cavern, so it's not too different from most Drow cities—always a lot of underhand deals going on."

Kielanai allowed herself an indignant frown. "You were a _pirate_?"

"_No_, I worked as a personal house guard for a couple of Drow involved in the Vhaeraunian movement trying to undermine Llothian trading with the pirates in that region," he answered in his defense. "Anyway, Mairiel and a couple of her friends showed up at my boss's door one day. She was asking for his help locating her elven grandfather. He had supposedly come to Skullport, but disappeared. When my boss discovered I knew her, he gave the task over to me."

The bard grinned. "I'll bet she was glad to see you."

"She was married."

Her grin became awkward and faded. "Oh."

"To a knight," he added. "Her father was happy. Her brother was happy. But Mairiel wasn't happy. She said her husband was a good man, but he was gone frequently for long periods of time on his crusades to rid the world of various evils. She seemed neglected ... lonely. But I respected her decision and kept my distance ... until a particular, pompous ass of a high elf in her group started wining and dining her. When he suggested that she leave her husband for _him_, I couldn't stand it anymore. He and I exchanged words and—"

"_Words?_" The Akaviri-Altmer quirked a brow of doubt. "Considering your track record on negotiations?"

"Okay, I _might_ have knocked his pansy ass to the ground," he conceded, mildly irritated. "But she admitted to flirting with him _because_ she wanted to get a reaction from me."

"Not very nice."

"Not what you think. She wanted to leave her husband, but felt guilty about it. She said she needed to know if there was still a chance for anything between us. She said it would make her decision easier." He paused as he remembered the conversation. "I've always had trouble letting go of things. Of _course_ I still wanted her, but there was still no way an ex-Llothian Drow could ever measure up to her family's standards."

Kielanai was confused. "But you're a knight, too."

He shook his head. "Not at that time—not yet. After a month or so, her husband came to Skullport looking for her. He knew about our previous relationship and blamed me for abducting her because that was easier to believe than her wanting to leave on her own," he continued with contempt. "Since he wanted to play that game, I promised I'd steal her right out from under his nose. But I knew the only way to convince her to stay with me and earn her family's respect was to become a knight myself. If a goddess like Eilistraee could accept me into her service, that would prove my current convictions were strong enough to outweigh my past ... right?"

The previous bits of this story became very clear to the bard now. "That's why you made the vow."

"But right after that, we got a lead on why her grandfather had come to Skullport. Unknown to the rest of his family, he was a member of the Ancestral Avengers. That's a secret society of light elves dedicated to hunting and killing dark elves because they believe we should have been destroyed, rather than banished from the surface."

Kielanai tilted her head, confused again. "Dark elves were banished from the surface on your world?"

He waved it off, not wanting to get into that right now. "Her grandfather and his group had decided to target the Drow of Skullport. We managed to upset the attack, but her grandfather escaped, and she disappeared. We went after her thinking he had taken her against her will, but when we finally found her, she said she had accompanied him voluntarily. She hoped that living among her elven kin on the surface, would help her find the peace of mind she couldn't find with her human husband … or me."

The bard's expression changed to one of sympathy. "I'm so sorry."

He nodded, expecting her to say that. "Don't be. Part of me will always be angry that she put her family's wishes above her own ... or mine. But part of me knows she wouldn't have been happy. Her sense of honor was never fully able to get past the things she knew I had done as a Llothian. I suspect she also did it to spare my life, knowing I would have been hunted if she stayed with me. She was never truly mine, not even as a slave. So there was nothing I could do to stop her from leaving." The Drow returned to the kitchen table and reached for his bottle of ale. "I never saw her again," he added before taking a sip.

"Roland, her husband, told me afterward that he had made a mistake to put his sense of duty before his wife, but that he couldn't have made any other decision. He wanted to believe Mairiel was right about me—that a Drow could be capable of heartbreak and longing—so he advised me to find a wife among the Eilistraeen priestesses and treat her well. But that wasn't what I wanted. I wanted Mairiel."

The Drow was quiet for a moment, but then lifted his chin to meet the bard's somber expression. "When she left, I went back to Menzoberranzan and hooked up with Kimmuriel's mercenaries ... until I was hired for another attempt on my sister's life. So, yeah, I don't want to experience that kind of loss again."

"But if you avoid heartache, you miss out on friendship," Kielanai softly added.

"I'm not alone. I'm not above one-night stands, and I have a variety of mutual alliances—Talvalo, Kimmuriel ... you. This isn't just for my sake, Kielanai. Like you, Mairiel couldn't 'wrap her mind around' some of the things I did before I met her. But in the end, any _friend_ of mine is going to have less peace of mind the more that she knows about me."

She shook her head. "I don't believe that. Forgiveness can be a powerful thing."

"Sometimes. My sister was able to forgive me for trying to kill her—twice. But a person's ability to forgive is directly related to his or her sense of mercy and justice. They are opposites, you see. Justice means getting what you deserve. Mercy means _not_ getting what you deserve." He frowned and moved a step closer to her. "Shall we test how far you are willing to show mercy when it is _not_ deserved?"

She waited, wary but curious.

"One of my first personal trophies captured from a raid was the young daughter of a gold elf noble." He moved a step closer. "I knew she wouldn't last in the field workers or battle front, so I used her to warm my bed. She hated me so much that she hid a knife in her clothing and attacked me one night. I struck back ... here ..." He touched her collar bone. "And drove the blade down through here ..." He drew a line diagonally down her chest to her ribs. "Cleaved her shoulder clean from her body."

He waited while the bard swallowed uncomfortably.

"I would be honored to have someone like you cry over my grave as you did for Jauffre and Martin ... but I don't deserve it. I'm not your friend, Kielanai. I don't belong in your world. Just help me find my sister so I can go back underground, and you can go home to your little island in the sun to live happily ever after." The Drow backed away and went to the door to let himself out, preferring to sit under the stars … alone.

))((

Kielanai kept her thoughts to herself the next morning as they saddled up and rode back to Cloud Ruler Temple. Daerazal didn't bother encouraging her to return to her usual chatty mood. He knew she needed time to absorb everything that had happened in the past couple of days, including his horrible confession about what he did to his gold elf slave once upon a time. Her haunted expression did make him wonder if he was right to tell her about it. He didn't want to endanger their expedition to Akavir if she lost faith in him. But he reminded himself that living with a painful truth was ultimately much better than living with a comforting lie.

They spoke to Caius about holding Jauffre's armor for them, and Kielanai sadly related what she had witnessed concerning Martin's sacrifice at the temple. Caius held to his promise and gave them the name of a mage in Cheydinhal that could teleport them directly to the Caldera Mages Guild in Morrowind. The pair of elves thanked him, then packed up their supplies at the bard's cottage and set out on foot once more toward the northeastern quadrant of Cyrodiil.

When they arrived in Cheydinhal, a couple of days later, they went straight to the guild hall to inquire about the mage.

"A high elf named Orintur?" The human mage at the entrance smiled. "Yes, of course. He's just upstairs doing research. Are you a member of the guild?"

Kielanai nodded. "Well ... I am. He's not." She cast a thumb over her shoulder to the Drow behind her. "But he's with me."

The human mage looked at the dark elf mercenary with skepticism. "Well, I suppose he can go up with you, but only if you take responsibility for not letting him touch anything."

Daerazal set a finger on a retort on the counter and held it there in defiance until he received a dirty look from the human mage.

"Yes, thank you," the bard politely answered, swatting his hand away from the item. Giving him a scowl, she led the way up the right-hand stairs.

"I see the Cheydinhal mages are just as anal as mages everywhere else," he spoke low behind her, then checked over his shoulder to make sure the mage was still watching him as he stole a sweet roll from the table.

The bard turned just in time to notice his offense and swiped the roll from his hand before he could take a bite from it. "Only because they have to deal with childish behavior from people like you." Pushing him ahead of her, she returned the sweet roll to the platter.

They continued up the second and third sets of stairs until they came to the guild private quarters. Inside, they found a high elf seated at a desk over several books.

"Orintur?" Kielanai cautiously asked.

The Altmer mage looked up from his studies. "Yes?"

"I'm terribly sorry to disturb you, but a man named Caius Cosades gave us your name. He said you could teleport us to Morrowind."

The elven mage was surprised at the name, but then stood and greeted them. "Must be important. Caius is a very important man, you know. He requested my help quite frequently when he was stationed in Vvardenfell. I can send you to the Caldera guild, if you like, but, um ... word of this service shouldn't spread around."

"Understood."

Orintur closed the door behind them and pulled back the rug near his bed to reveal a magic circle painted on the floor. "Oh, that would be 150 septims, please," he added, gesturing for them to step into the center of the circle.

"What?" Daerazal had employed the guild travel system in Morrowind on rare occasion, but was used to paying less than ten. "Why so much?"

"There's two of you. It's a great distance. And ... this is supposed to be a service known only to the Emperor's Blades."

The Drow scowled at the Altmer, but dug the proper amount out of the money pouch at his hip and passed it to him before stepping into the circle behind Kielanai. "And they call mercenaries thieves ..."

Orintur stepped back and concentrated to begin casting his spell.

Daerazal hated using magical means of travel, but he braced himself and closed his eyes. When he felt the wave of tingling magic pass, he opened his eyes to find he was standing in a completely different building in front of a completely different person.

"Greetings," an Imperial woman nodded politely and gestured for them to step down from the arcane teleporting device.

Kielanai looked around the Imperial-style guild hall, surprised. "Is this Morrowind?"

"Yes. My name's Emelia Duronia of the Caldera Mages Guild. Is this not where you intended to arrive? I can send you to another guild, if you like."

"But this looks just like Cyrodiil." The bard stepped away from the magic circle with disappointment. "I was expecting something more ... different."

"Ah, tourists. Well, Caldera is an Imperial mining town, so it's greatly influenced and operated by Legion governors. If you're wanting to see more traditional Dunmer culture, you should go to some place like Ald'run, Balmora, or Vos. I recommend that you stay away from Ashlander camps, though. They can be rather hostile to outlanders."

"Vos?" Kielanai fumbled in her pocket for her notebook where Durain Sharl had written his acquaintance's name. "Where is that? Can we get there from here?"

Emelia laughed. "Not even close. We can send you to the guild hall in Sadrith Mora, but it's going to take some boat hopping to cross all those islands in the western shores to get to Vos. Otherwise, you're in for a very long walk. Not even silt striders go out that far."

Kielanai stopped searching her pocket. "Silt striders?" She looked to Daerazal, awaiting an explanation.

He set a hand to the back of her neck to coax her forward with him, down the stairs past the other mages in the guild. "Remember what I said about giant fleas?"

"Yes, but—"

"Once you see the size of these fleas, you won't want to see the dogs." He opened the guild door and gestured for her to exit before him. "When we get to Balmora, we'll take a silt strider to Seyda Neen."

As she stepped outside, Kielanai's eyes widened in wonder at the tall, green hillsides that surrounded the Imperial cottages that dotted the town. "We're in a pit."

"We're in a caldera," he corrected, as if that should have been obvious. "That's why it's called … _Caldera_. Let's get a room at the inn before they fill up for the night." Leading the way down the cobbled pavement toward Shenk's Shovel, he was glad to see the bard excited about visiting a new place. Maybe it would distract her from thinking about what he did to his gold elf slave once upon a time. Maybe it would help restore her peace of mind.


	16. Chapter 16: The Mages in Morrowind

Chapter 16: The Mages in Morrowind

"Surane Leoriane?" Kielanai asked, looking up from a page in her notebook to face an Imperial woman with tidy brown hair.

"Yes?"

"My name is Kielanai, and this is Daerazal. Caius Cosades recommended that we speak to you about a private and … rather delicate … matter."

"Caius Cosades?" Surane glanced over their shoulders to see if anyone in the street was paying attention to her unusual visitors, then ushered them into her Caldera home and closed the door behind them ... locking it. "Please, come upstairs and have a seat." She led the way up the narrow entrance case and went straight to the hearth where a kettle and small cauldron of soup were warming over the fire. "I haven't seen Caius in a while now. How is he?"

"He's fine," Kielanai assured her.

"Is he still ...?" Surane gestured as if smoking from a pipe.

Kielanai was cautious of the gesture.

"He used to be a skooma addict," Surane gently informed her, but then grew suspicious. "I thought everyone that knew Caius knew that."

"I'm afraid I don't know him that well. We've only spoken to him twice at the Blades headquarters; Martin Septim referred us to him because of a situation that requires our attention here in Morrowind."

"Martin Septim ... I had heard they found one more heir hidden away somewhere. Does this mean Tamriel has a new emperor?"

Kielanai lowered her gaze. Apparently they had traveled faster than news about recent events. "Martin Septim was the hidden heir, but he offered himself as the avatar of Akatosh to end the Oblivion Crisis in Imperial City."

"_Was?_" Surane was saddened. "Oh my. I had heard about the gates opening in Cyrodiil, but I never would have thought ... This truly is bad news for the Empire." Shaking her head, she went past the table cluttered with alchemical equipment to her shelves and found some small cups. "And right on the heels of word concerning the Grandmaster's death. I remember meeting Sir Jauffre once during my initial training days in the Blades. He was a kind, wise soul from what I remember. I can't even begin to think of anyone else appropriate enough to fill his shoes."

Pouring two cups of steaming tea, she set them in front of two chairs on the clean table and gestured for them to sit. Then, she returned the kettle to the fire.

"You're a Blades agent?" Daerazal pulled his chair from under the table.

"Yes," she softly answered and placed a finger to her lips. "I'm a mage by trade, though, so let's keep the sides on the side. I was assuming you were Blades agents as well, since Caius sent you, or I wouldn't have said anything. You're not agents, yet he sent you to me?" The human seated herself across from the elves, her curiosity piqued now.

"I was admitted into the Blades for a single purpose," Kielanai confessed. "But, I'm really just a bard."

"How nice." Surane smiled. "You'll have to speak with Shenk at the local tavern. They could use some talent to liven things up a bit. Do you know where it is?"

"Kielanai is better than a town drunk at finding taverns," Daerazal answered, receiving an amused smile from their Imperial hostess and an indignant frown from the bard.

"Maybe I'll ask about it tonight, but tomorrow we need to head out for Seyda Neen," Kielanai continued. "You see, we're looking for the Nerevarine, and we think she went to Akavir. But she left under strange circumstances and no one has heard from her since."

The Imperial woman's eyes traveled to the warrior at the bard's side. "Chizrae was unusually dark skinned, even for a Dunmer. You must be some kin to her?"

"Her brother," he answered. "You knew her?"

"Yes. Caius sent her to me for some magic training when she first arrived in Morrowind. I thought she was a very ... _up-front_ individual, and her magical knowledge seemed experienced, yet ... different. But she was very determined to learn how to manipulate new energies."

"Magic works a little differently where we come from. Chiz would have had to start from scratch with any lessons you gave her."

Kielanai could tell Daerazal was holding back on openly admitting he and his sister were not from this world. It wasn't clear whether Surane was aware of the Nerevarine's origins.

"I can guess now why Caius referred you to me. One moment, please." Surane stood and went down the stairs to the lower level of her home.

The gold elf and the dark elf exchanged unknowing glances as they heard her rummaging through some drawers and chests. They quietly sampled their hot tea as they waited. But after a few minutes, Surane returned with a small chest. Setting it on the table, she lifted a key chain out of her pocket, flipped through a few keys until she found the right one, and inserted it into the lock. The box clicked open, and she turned it to face them. Inside was a long, pointed, black thing that resembled polished ebony. It was sharpened to a deadly point on one end, but rather rough and flat on the other.

"Do you know what this is?" the Imperial mage asked.

Kielanai lowered her cup and shook her head.

"It's a dragon's tooth." Surane seated herself across from them. "Needless to say, it's an extremely rare find, since people believe they are extinct. I won't show it off to just anybody, but I showed it to Caius and discussed it with him extensively. You see, every other mage in this backwater province wants to study Dwemer artifacts to figure out what happened to them. I'm more interested in figuring out what happened to the dragons.

"The Blades were originally formed from the Akaviri Dragonguard who came to Cyrodiil in the First Era to slay dragons. They had been sworn to find, serve, and protect the Dragonborn—someone born every few lifetimes with the soul of a dragon—someone strong enough to control them and hunt them using their own magic. St. Alessia was the first Dragonborn. Sharing the blood of Akatosh, she used his power to seal the Gates of Oblivion in a sacred pact bound by Dragonfire. And so it continued through each Emperor's lineage … until now.

Surane folded her forearms on the table behind the small chest and met her guests with an earnest gaze. "If what you say is true, and we have no new heir, I fear it is an omen for dark times ahead, even if the Oblivion gates are closed. At least, until another Dragonborn can be found. But where, and more importantly _when_, does one find such a rare soul? And what do we do in the meantime?" The Blades mage looked too lost to suppose what this would mean to their order.

Kielanai remembered her final moments with the last Septim heir. "Do you think Martin really had the soul of a dragon?"

Surane smiled. "Of course not. For a human, or any other mortal, to posses the actual soul of a dragon is nothing but embellishment dreamed up by drunken Nords to explain their version of the legendary dragon hunter myths. But the ones chosen to wear the Amulet of Kings were definitely blessed by the divine protection of Akatosh. The proof is in the fact that Tamriel was safe from Oblivion until Uriel Septim died without being able to pass the amulet on to his hidden son."

The bard's mouth twisted. "Some protection," she muttered in disgust. "Martin sacrificed himself to call upon Akatosh."

"Then Akatosh found him worthy enough to keep his promise."

It wasn't an answer that could pacify the bard's loss, but she looked back down at the dragon's tooth and made a mental note to someday ask her Nord friends in Bruma more about this dragon slayer legend. "So, where did you get this?"

"I found it among the treasures of a burial tomb used by some of the Second Era Tsaesci who lived, and temporarily ruled, in Tamriel. I thought, at first, it might have come from Skyrim, since that's primarily where the Akaviri Dragonguard came through Tamriel, and there are so many Nord legends about dragons once roaming the lands there.

"Except that I think this particular dragon tooth came directly from Akavir. I found it with an ancient bamboo scroll inscribed in an Akaviri human language. The scroll gives instructions how to use its alchemical properties for teleportation magic—a type of magic unheard of and very unlikely among ancient Nord mages. Their culture has never been one to support the practice of minor magic, much less something like this.

"The Tsaesci, on the other hand, have a reputation for using very powerful magic—spells that have been said to even reshape the heavens and change the course of the weather. So, it's possible that such an artifact could have been found in Skyrim, but it's _more likely_ that its owner brought his most rare and powerful magic items with him directly from Akavir. And considering the language used on the scroll, that means either human slaves were brought from Akavir to Tamriel with the Tsaesci, or the snake-people are more hominid than we first thought."

The Imperial mage lifted the dragon's tooth from its protective bed and turned it over so they could see the deep scratches on the back side. "Whoever owned this had been taking scrapings from it, so I took a few of my own. I found that dragon-tooth dust contains energy that can be used for fire, strength, fear, and flight magic, making it almost as pragmatically valuable as its worth as an artifact alone. I can't help you reach Akavir, but if you could help me test my teleportation theory, I might be able to get you back _out_."

The Drow was skeptical. "Use of the words _teleportation,_ _theory,_ and _might_ in the same context doesn't sound good."

The human mage laughed lightly at his doubt. "Caius knows that I'm an expert in the school of Mysticism, and I often prepare items with Mark and Recall enchantments for fellow Blades agents. He must have acknowledged the need to find and bring the Nerevarine back to Morrowind, or he would have tried to talk you out of this quest. But he must have also known you could put the entire Empire at further risk by doing so. If the Tsaesci find out that you are from Tamriel, they will accuse you of being Imperial spies. It could prompt a retaliation. And without an Emperor, Tamriel would be ripe for another attempted Akaviri invasion.

"I'm sure that Caius sent you to me so that I could answer any questions you might have concerning Akavir, but he probably also wanted me to make you a little something, so that if you are taken prisoner you could have an immediate escape."

Kielanai looked to Daerazal with worry. "I'm not sure we could disguise the fact that we're from Tamriel. I know some speech and customs, but … we're obviously elves. They don't have elves in Akavir ... do they?" she asked of the Blades mage.

"Not that I know of. Being half-Altmer, you could try passing yourself off as a human by binding your ears behind a scarf or something. But he _definitely_ could not," she gestured to the dark elf. "Even if he were to bind his ears, no human race has skin of that blue-black color, nor eyes so blood red. But anyone you meet is likely to question your origins, so you must avoid representing the Empire in any way. I'm not sure how to help you disguise yourselves to walk among the Tsaesci, but I think I can give you an escape if something goes wrong."

The bard and warrior both nodded in understanding of the conditions that they had to work under.

"Good. Then, I'll see what kind of back-door I can create for you, and you can return to pick it up before you go. But ... you said you were already familiar with the speech and customs of the land. Are you a researcher of Akaviri history, too?"

Kielanai realized how much her own secrets would mean to this woman. "My father was not a human of Tamrielic origin. He was an Akaviri human of the Kawauta clan." She told the mage her story—how her grandfather and his family came to Tamriel and the services they had done for Uriel Septim's Blades during his reign.

Surane could barely contain herself to let her finish. "Oh, please allow me to see the artifacts that exist on this island of yours when you return!" she begged. "To have artifacts that are so recent and so well-preserved ... You are living proof that humans are not extinct in Akavir! You could answer so many of my questions."

The bard smiled and nodded in agreement. "Well, now that the island is no longer involved in protection of the Empire or under siege, I guess it is time for the rumors to be lifted. But have you heard of the discovery of human remains at Pale Pass, too? The Countess of Bruma asked me to help find an artifact from there for her. And the skeletons and ghosts I saw there were definitely human-not Tsaesci."

"Pale Pass? Wait! Let me get my notes and a quill. I simply _must_ write all of this down."

As the mage stood and hurried back down the stairs to gather writing supplies, Daerazal sighed and lifted the dragon's tooth in his hand. Clenching it between two fingers as if fitting it into a gum line, he tried to imagine the size of the creature that lost it. "We'll be here all night now."

The bard chuckled lightly after sipping some more tea. "If you want to leave, we could invite her to dinner at the tavern, instead."

He shook his head. "Can't discuss this kind of thing in a public place. I can't even tell her that dragons still exist where I come from. This one must have been immature—not a baby, but not fully grown."

Astonished, Kielanai set down her empty cup, rested her elbows on the table, and set her chin in her hands. "You've seen a real dragon?"

"In the Underdark. That slave caravan I was telling you about ran into a deep dragon named Daurgothoth in some underground ruins."

"He had a name?" she seemed amused.

"Of course he had a name. Dragons are very intelligent and skilled in magic. Deep dragons are black, barbed, and can see in the dark. Imagine walking along and realizing _that's_ been following you," he added with a smirk. "But Daurgothoth was also a great wyrm and a dracolich—a very nasty one that wanted us to find an artifact for him. And it was that artifact that eventually led us to uncovering the truth about the conspiracy."

"You'll have to tell me the whole story some time."

He cast her doubtful glance, but then looked back to the dragon's tooth. "The other dragon was a large red that had a vendetta against a friend of mine—a thief."

"_Friend_?" Kielanai quirked a brow and a thin smile curled her lips. "I thought you didn't have friends."

"_Acquaintance_," he corrected as he slouched comfortably in his chair. "I use the term more loosely than you do."

She nodded, amused. "I see."

"Anyway, he wanted to kill this thief to get him back for draining his magic while he was trapped. So, when he couldn't weed him out of the crowd, he lost patience. Reds aren't known for their patience. He destroyed the entire grotto city we were staying in. There's no where to hide in a tunnel when a dragon decides to torch you. So, if it weren't for an underground river canal, I wouldn't be here."

"So, you're a noble-mercenary-knight-dragon-slayer?"

He was tolerant of her exaggeration, but not impressed with it. "Hard to slay a dragon when you're hiding in the river. With dragons, it's best to outwit them and then run like hell. Only an idiot would fight a dragon. Unless it's small ... like this one." He hooked the tooth toward her throat as a dragon would have used it to seize her, but then he gave it a light, almost playful tap.

Kielanai smiled at the gesture, glad to see some humor slowly returning to their conversations. There had been a distinct, discomforting silence between them ever since he spilled the stories about his former slaves, but he seemed a little more relaxed here in Morrowind where things felt familiar. And that made her feel a little more relaxed, too.

))((

The next day, they left Caldera for Balmora via the Mage Guild again. This time, Kielanai was very pleased to step out of the teleportation circle and find herself standing in a strange mud-daub style interior with very unique Dunmer furnishings. This time, she _truly_ felt she had arrived in Morrowind.

Daerazal led her out of the guild hall and into the city streets. Everywhere they turned, Kielanai pointed at Velothi items, pack guars, and Dunmer guards dressed in traditional bonemold armor. Then ... she saw the silt strider.

"Woah! Is that real?"

The Drow smirked at her fascination. "Let's hope so because it's a long walk to Seyda Neen, otherwise." Leading her up the long ramp to board the creature, he held up two fingers to the driver. "Two to Seyda Neen."

"Do they run or swim?" Kielanai asked, staring at the alien, brown-and-white, insect-like beast.

"Sixteen septims ... and they walk." The Dunmer driver grinned at the gold elf's timid attempt to touch the creature's pale shell. "But their stride is long, and they can cross most rivers and mountains in half the time it would take a person."

Daerazal paid the reasonable fee.

"First time in Morrowind?" the driver guessed, as he hoisted himself into the carved out portion of shell.

"For her." Daerazal climbed in first, then helped Kielanai settle beside him.

She turned her attention to the landscape. From the high position on the silt strider, they had a beautiful view of the traditional mud-daubed architecture of the Dunmer city, its surrounding mountains, and strangely twisted trees. "These soft, leather seats are wonderful, by the way. What are they made of? Guar skin?"

"That's its stomach," the driver answered. "Silt Striders are controlled by massaging their internal organs. If you want it to go left, you have to know which part of its brain will make it go left."

Kielanai felt as if she was going to lose her breakfast over the side of the shell any moment, but she saw Daerazal's hand shift over his mouth, as he tried to hide the fact that he was greatly amused at her expression.

The giant, flea-like creature trilled a whale-like song in response to the driver's touch, turned, and lifted its long, spindly legs to stride toward the river. The ride was smooth and gentle, so the bard tried to focus her attention on the scenery. "You didn't tell me I had to sit on a parasite's intestines."

"That would have spoiled the magic of the moment," he answered with satisfaction. "Look over there." He pointed past her shoulder to a four-legged, shelled creature with a pointy nose that was grubbing along the river bank. "That's a nix-hound. You won't see one of those in Cyrodiil."

"Looks like a large beetle."

"No, that would be a shalk."

"Do they have any mammals in this place, or is it all reptiles and bugs?"

"They have really big rats. Oh ... and _cliff racers_," he added with a grin that meant he couldn't wait for her to see them, either.

She wanted to smack him for being so entertained by her shock and disgust. She really did. "Well, you're certainly animated today."

"Consider it payback for nearly getting us killed after tying a war hammer to a horse's ass near an Oblivion gate. And the comments about dressing me in women's clothing. And the Nord snogging thing. Oh ... and let's not forget Therana."

"I'll be sure to tell her you remembered her."

"That's _not_ what I meant."

With a sly expression, she turned back to enjoying the weird and wild landscape beyond Balmora. "I know."

))((

The silt strider carried them easily down the river until it opened up to the coast of the Inner Sea. From there, it headed east until more Imperial-style buildings could be seen. The town of Seyda Neen was very small by comparison to Balmora and Caldera and surrounded by swampy marsh trees. The moon was up by the time the silt strider came to a stop just beyond the docks and allowed them to disembark to a high hill just beyond the town proper.

Being that close to their mark, Daerazal decided it would be worth it to go the extra distance and finish this leg of their journey, rather than taking an extra day for another short trip. So, though they were both hungry and tired, the elves turned away from the lights of the town and walked along the road leading further east toward Ebonheart. At the appropriate place on the side of the road, which appeared to Kielanai to be nothing more than a rock and a tree, the Drow turned right and followed a bog bar down to a small boat.

Daerazal handed her his pack and gestured for her to get into the craft. Then, he pushed it out of the sand into deeper water and rowed across the black expanse toward the fortressed island that the Nerevarine called home.

As the Drow rowed the boat through the swamp, Kielanai looked up at the twinkling stars in the clear night sky. A warm breeze drifted across her shoulders reminding her that it was summer—quite the contrast to the higher altitude climate of Bruma. Frogs and insects chirped a bayou lullaby even when they were well beyond the mainland. She could see how this mysterious place could appeal to someone like Daerazal's sister, considering where they originally came from.

As their boat drew near to the natural-looking rock walls, Daerazal waited for the gates to open and rowed the boat in and alongside the interior dock. When the gates closed behind them, he stood to throw out the rope and set up the plank.

Kielanai followed him out of the boat onto the dock, then walked beside him toward the large, well-lit estate at the back of the rock-wall-enclosed island. Chimes stirred in the trees and horses could be heard in the dark distance ahead. The horses were an import item of Talvalo's no doubt. She remembered both he and his father had a love for breeding them back in Imperial City.

"It's peaceful here," she finally commented, breaking the silence of the night.

"That's why Chizrae wanted it."

"Is that an inn?" She pointed to the building to her right as they passed it.

"Yes. Talvalo ran a business here for a short time offering bed and breakfast options to wealthy people in Imperial City who wanted a _Morrowind experience_." The Drow shook his head lightly at his brother-in-law's visionary impulses. "The rooms are still open, but so are the guest houses, so, I usually stay in one of them when I'm here. There's three guest cottages just beyond the smith, and there's a huge pond and garden behind the house. It's a pretty self-sufficient place, so they only have to go to Seyda Neen when they need to trade items. There's not much in town worth seeing anyway.

"The townsfolk loved the idea of having the Nerevarine here at first, but after rumors started spreading about Chizrae using the island as a fortress to launch a rebellion against the Empire, business from Imperial City was lost, workers were fired, and now most of the townspeople shun them.

"When the baby was due, Chizrae invited some of her Eilistraeen friends from Menzoberranzan to help out around the house, but they're gone now. Talvalo has offered to move to a Drow city where Chiz would feel more welcome, but she says this is her home. She wants to stay here." The dark elf approached the Imperial-style home, released the front door latch, and gestured for her to enter.

Having finally reached their Morrowind destination, tired from their long journey, Kielanai accepted the invite, and the Drow closed the door behind her. He set his travel pack down on the large trunk near the front bay window, but she moved forward from the anteroom to the main hall to study the interior of the grand estate.

The rich, colorful tapestries and the intricately carved wood panels of the walls reminded her of Talvalo's family estate near Weye. This house was well-suited to a high elf with Imperial tastes. To her right, a fireplace in the dining area was lit with silver and blue candelabras instead of roaring flames because of the summer heat. A bar with an extensive collection of wines lined the wall opposite the large, formal dining table. Multiple doors led to other rooms in the estate, but one door in particular was wide open—a door leading outside onto a deck.

To her right, another fireplace, also filled with candles, lit the sitting area with soft furnishings. A piano, lute, and small guar-skin drums called to the bard on the far-side of the hearth. But the rest of the interior had a distinctly Morrowind feel to it. A small statue of Azura sat on a shelf with a Dunmer paper lantern and a model of a Dunmer long boat. Another bookshelf boasted models of a silt strider and pack guar. Strange potted flowers she had never seen before pulled the eye from one end of the hall back to the other. But before she could say anything about them, the door at the back of the sitting room opened.

A tall, slender Altmer rushed through the sitting room to wrap Daerazal in a crushing hug. "You're back! You're home! I'd almost—oh, it's only you." Disgusted, Talvalo released the smothered Drow and pushed him back a step to fold his arms over his chest in a sulking manner. "You look so much like your sister at first glance," he complained.

Daerazal straightened his jerkin, but gave the gold elf a sour frown for manhandling him in such a manner. "You mean, aside from the long hair and breasts?"

The mage answered the mercenary's sarcasm with a snort. "Well, at least I didn't kiss you."

"Well, thank the gods for that."

Talvalo's attention drifted past the Drow's shoulder. "Kielanai ..." Upon seeing the bard, the gold elf stepped around his brother-in-law to give her a heartfelt hug. "You came. I don't know what to say. I … thank you."

Kielanai's eyes misted over as she returned the warm embrace, then stepped back to look at her childhood friend. He looked exactly the same as she remembered him, except tired and off-color somehow. The noble Altmer was usually well-dressed, right down to his choice of golden earrings, but now, in spite of his fancy home, his extravagant robes had been replaced by a simple white shirt, navy pants, and bare feet. His pale green eyes had lost their sparkle of humor, and his long red hair was no longer tied neatly back in his trademark jeweled clasp. "Talvalo … what's happened to you?" She quietly asked as she slipped her own travel pack from her shoulder and passed it to Daerazal.

Talvao tried to smile. "It would take all night to tell you. Have you eaten recently? If not, my kitchen is at your disposal."

"I don't have much of an appetite after riding on a giant flea's stomach all the way from Balmora."

"Silt strider." Talvalo grinned and went to the bar to pour some drinks for the tired travelers. "Please, join me on the deck and make yourself at home."

Daerazal set Kielanai's travel pack down near his own and led her outside to the deck overlooking a large pond in the middle of a grove.

Blue and white luminescent flowers and mushrooms grew around the embankment. Dotted between the flora were long, purple crystals that reminded her for the world of the magical stones found in Ayleid ruins. Their soft glow on the water's surface was just enough to offer a reflection of the red and white moons overhead. And the moonlight, in turn, gave a misty, ghostlike glow to the moss-draped cypress trees surrounding the back of the estate.

"This is amazing," she spoke, as a breeze rustled through the leaves and played the chimes.

"It's Chizrae's moon garden." Daerazal sat down at the table overlooking the pond. "Night is still the best time of day for a Drow to be outside. So, she planted a garden that grows in the dark ... just like home."

"_This_ is what Menzoberranzan looks like?"

"Only a little. Menzoberranzan has obsidian, carved towers lit by green, blue, and purple fairie fires. Obsidian and jade statues ... Glowing fungi here and there ... Pools of black water beneath a ceiling of magical radiations and rock ..."

Kielanai turned to face him because he described it so differently now from the first time he told her about it, almost longingly. "How can a place of such beauty be so cruel?"

"The same way Mankar Camoran was able to create a torture chamber in his paradise."

Talvalo joined them on the deck and offered goblets from a platter of cheese and bread for a late night snack. "Was there trouble on the way?"

Daerazal helped himself to a large slice of bread as soon as Talvalo set the platter near the lantern. "She wasn't in Weye like you said, so I had to go all the way to Anvil to find her. And then all hell broke loose in Cyrodiil—_literally_. Did you get wind of the Oblivion gates popping up all over the place there?"

"Yes. They started popping up all over here as well. Ald'rhun was nearly overrun with daedra. How bad was it in Cyrodiil?"

Daerazal gestured for the bard to do her thing, passing along news by telling stories. Kielanai, in turn, gestured to the other chair for Talvalo to have a seat.

The moons crossed the sky marking time that was forgotten by the three elves as she shared their experiences with the Oblivion Crisis, the Battle for Bruma, and the end of the Septim Dynasty ... forever. Talvalo remained riveted by each word, interrupting only to ask if his family was alright after hearing of the siege in Imperial City.

))((

Daerazal held his tongue through the whole thing, as usual, but noted that there was something different about the way the bard related the events this time. She was not here to entertain, so the dramatic replays and humor were left out completely. Kielanai skipped over things that had nothing to do with the outcome of the final battle, and she left out anything having to do with the Drow, except for the parts where his help was necessary to achieve the final victory. It was as if she was trying to avoid commentary on him at all, instead of using him as her usual showpiece.

"Good heavens," Talvalo commented when she finished. "It's a wonder you made it back at all."

"I'm sorry it took so long," she added. "I realize that your wife's situation—"

"No, no. Don't apologize. You did what you had to do." Her friend grew quiet for a moment. "I'm just grateful that you came. I assume Daerazal has told you about the full extent of the situation?"

Kielanai nodded. "He said Chizrae received a note from Lord Vivec, asking her to go with him on an excursion to Akavir. Do you still have the note?"

"No, she took it with her, but it's strange to say the least. Either the Empire has found a convenient way to get rid of her before she can fulfill the second half of the prophecy, or Vivec's mind has joined the madness of his Tribunal colleagues, Soltha Sil and Almalexia. I can't help but wonder if Vivec is leading Chizrae to Akavir for the same reason Almalexia led her to Clockwork City—to destroy her before she can destroy him."

The bard shook her head, confused. "But why go all the way to Akavir? If he wanted to destroy the Nerevarine, why not do it here?"

Talvalo turned his chin to look out over the moon garden. "Any word of such a thing happening here would whip the Ashlanders and other separatists into an uproar that would set the Empire on full tilt. It's one thing to blame the Empire for trying to dispose of a Dunmer Messiah, but it's another to invite them to invade in retaliation." He turned to face his friend again. "Best to lure the Nerevarine away so that no one knows why she even left … supposing the Empire _isn't_ behind this, that is."

"Martin Septim denied any action on his behalf against her," Daerazal spoke as he twisted the stem of his goblet between his thumb and forefinger. "Caius Cosades tried to clear Uriel Septim from blame, as well, but he hinted there are secrets within the Elder Council that could pose a threat to her. Martin promised he would get to the bottom of it when the Oblivion Crisis was over, but ... that's not going to happen, now."

Talvalo frowned in a helpless manner. "So, you _don't_ think the Empire is involved?"

"I won't say that the Empire isn't involved, but I believe that both Septims were innocent of any action against her." Daerazal sighed. "If there's an Imperial conspiracy here, it was done behind their backs."

"Then … that leaves us with Vivec finally having snapped. Or … something we haven't considered yet."

Sympathizing with her friend's loss, Kielanai leaned across the table to clasp Talvalo's hands in hers. "We'll do whatever it takes to find your Chizrae, okay? I promise."

The mage nodded and looked as if he were holding back tears. "Thank you. Anything you can offer toward a trip to Akavir will be much appreciated."

A sobering silence settled over the group before Daerazal stood. "Well, either way it would be best to make further plans on fresh minds, tomorrow."

"Yes, of course. Forgive me," Talvalo apologized. "You've had a terrible journey behind you, and you certainly deserve a rest. Daerazal, if you could show Kielanai her boarding options ..."

The Drow stretched with a yawn before nodding and heading toward the door. Talvalo stood with them and escorted them back through his home to the anteroom where their travel packs were. As Kielanai gave Talvalo one more hug of reassurance, Daerazal grabbed a ring of keys from the nail by the door post. Then, gathering their things, he led the bard across the stepping stones through the Telvanni-style elven gate at the front of the estate.

As she followed, the bard spoke low. "You're right. He's not his usual self. He can't charm his way out of this situation, so he's falling apart."

"I'll need to gather supplies for the trip to Akavir, so I'll probably head into town tomorrow ... maybe back to Balmora. But it might help if you stayed with him instead of going with me."

The bard nodded and handed him her money pouch as they crossed the open field toward the guest houses. "Is there a tavern in town? I'm sure they'd appreciate hearing news out of Cyrodiil. I might be able to earn a few tips while we're here."

"There's a tradehouse on the main road from the bridge to the docks. Can't miss it. Another Altmer runs the place, so I'm sure he'd love to see you. Just remember that Seyda Neen may look like an Imperial town, but you're in Morrowind now. Make the wrong comment about their traditions, or the Empire, and you could find yourself getting chased instead of cheered." Daerazal gave her a glance of warning and paused between the three guest houses. "Do you want a single bed, or a double?"

"After sleeping on the ground for most of this journey, any bed will do."

He led her to the door of a small guest cottage and unlocked it for her. Pushing the door open, he removed the key from the ring and dropped it into her hand. "Need a light?"

"Got my own," she warned this time.

The Drow covered his face with his forearm and looked away from the direct brightness of the light spell while the bard stepped in and looked around.

After a brief inspection, the gold elf came back to where he waited. "It's nice. This will be fine."

"Okay, I'm right next door, if you need anything." He pointed as he squinted and blinked under her light.

Kielanai returned a small, tired smile. "Thanks."

With spots before his eyes, Daerazal turned away and headed to the cottage next to hers. His vision adjusted back to seeing in the dark as he unlocked his door. Closing it behind himself, the dark elf sighed at finally being on his own for the first time since this journey began. Choosing to remain in the dark, he changed out of his travel clothing and into a pair of loose, comfortable pants. He could hear a distant wolf howling at the moon as he washed up a bit, but he was so eager to climb under his covers that he blew off checking the moon's phases to see if it was time for Talvalo's dirty little secret to show itself again.

The Drow had just closed his eyes, relishing the comfort of his own bed, when someone banged on his door.

"Aw, what the …" Withholding the curse, he threw back the covers. Going to his door, he opened it to frown down at the nightgown-clad bard shivering with worry on his doorstep.

"You said if I needed anything ..."

He sighed with disgust and rubbed his tired eyes. "Fine. What do you need?"

"To know _exactly _when Talvalo's change occurs." The silver-haired bard pointed up at the night sky. Neither of the moons were full, but the big red one, Masser, was in third quarter.

The wolf in the distance howled at the moon again, and the dark elf snorted at her misunderstanding. "That's not Talvalo. That's Loki."

"Loki?"

"He's a black wolf Chizrae brought back from Solstheim. He has free roam of the estate, but he's tamed by a calming charm. He won't hurt anyone."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Because if that's Talvalo, he could probably break into doors or windows, and he might not be thinking too clearly about who his friends are."

"Talvalo wears the same kind of charm Loki does, but he doesn't turn until the blood moon is full. Trust me, you'll know when it's his time of the month. He gets moody, bossy ... kinda like when you—"

"Excuse me?"

"—started turning into a vampire."

Kielanai's expression flattened. "This again? Really? Of all the dark elves in the world who could have invited me to visit Morrowind, I had to get stuck with an egotistical Drow with a fang fetish."

He leaned inside his door sill. "But see, if you had listened to me and given in to that transformation, you wouldn't need to be frightened of the big bad wolf."

"No, I'd just be afraid of ripping your throat out."

"No, you're too afraid of me to try anything like that."

One brow lifted at the smug statement. "I am _not_ afraid of you."

"Are you sure? I've given you plenty of reasons to be." He leaned forward with a sinister expression as he hooked an arm around her neck and began to softly recite.

_"They slither into unchecked windows,_

_ebon serpents with ashen hair._

_Fire of hate burning through their eyes,_

_feeding on despair._

_Too late careless mother,_

_Too slow slothful father,_

_Your child is too far gone to hear its cries._

_A meal to the darken elves,_

_then slave to the under world,_

_First its soul ... then its body ... dies."_

"Oh, look. The mercenary knows poetry."

"Variation of a poem by Mystyp Folksong."

Kielanai pushed him away to march back to her cottage.

"Does that mean you don't want to hear my ghost stories?" he called after her. "You _did_ ask back in Anvil, you know."

"_No,_ I do _not_ want to hear any ghost stories. But if anything comes after me tonight, I'm blaming you," she called back before shutting her door.

Daerazal chuckled to himself as he looked up at the blood moon, then closed his door.

))((

"_Ronin,_" the bard grumbled as she locked the door and climbed back into bed. Rolling onto her side and pulling the covers close, she stared out the window at the ominous red orb hanging in the star-studded, black sky. As the wolf in the distance howled again, Kielanai hoped for both their sakes that her companion was right. She couldn't imagine Talvalo turning into a mindless, ravenous beast, and yet … his poor father ... torn to pieces like that ...

Seconds later, there was a knock on her door. A werewolf wouldn't knock politely before entering … would he?

With a heavy sigh, the gold elf rose from her bed and unlocked the door once more. "What do you wa—_aaaaaahhhhh!_" she shrieked as something dark as the night with blood-red eyes jumped at her with a loud snarl.

Shielding her head with her arms, she expected to be mauled. However, as her own thundering heartbeat calmed, she became aware of another sound. A wicked little cackle …

"Too easy." The dark elf laughed and waved her off as he headed back to his cabin.

The cowering bard snarled at his prank, straightened, and slammed the door shut, locking it once more.


	17. Chapter 17: Coda-Blossom Lanterns

Chapter 17: Coda-Blossom Lanterns

The next morning, Kielanai was able to view the island in all its daylight splendor. There were colorful, fragrant flower beds and tall cypress trees edged with moss and vines. The sun was warm and bright, and a variety of rare-breed horses could be seen around the border fence of the main garden. The bard smiled to herself, thinking this simple place felt more like a paradise than Mankar Camoran's flowery hell ever could.

Heading to the cottage next to hers, she knocked on the Daerazal's door. No one answered, meaning he had probably already left for the day's errands. Somewhat disappointed, the bard made her way alone to the island's main estate.

She knocked on the door, but when no one answered this time, she let herself into the entrance hall. "Hello? Talvalo?" she called. "Anyone home?"

The back door was open, so she walked through the house onto the deck to see if he was out there. The table was set with fresh food and wine, but no one else was present. _Strange ..._

On the deck, an unusual potted flower caught her eye. Moving closer to sniff its fragrance, she wondered what kind of alchemical properties it might have.

"There you are, Kielanai. I was wondering what happened to you." Talvalo came out onto the deck behind her, giving her a mild start. He was holding a small baby and was followed by a large, black wolf. "I was just going to invite you and Daerazal to lunch. It's a hound-and-scuttle recipe Chizrae picked up somewhere. I have roasted ash yams with scrib jelly, too. Would you like some?"

"Lunch?" She really had to stop sleeping so late. And what in the name of Talos was _scrib jelly_? "Daerazal left for Balmora to buy supplies for the trip." Her attention shifted to the baby in his arms.

The infant's features were a blend of traits from his paradoxical parentage—white hair, dark bronze-colored skin, and crimson eyes that blinked with sensitivity when his father carried him out into the bright sunlight on the deck. She couldn't help but grin at the sight of her irresponsible childhood friend filling such a mature role. "Wow, you really do have a son," she lightly teased. "And you're _still here_."

The mage turned to face her with an indignant frown. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

The bard laughed. "You used to be Mr. Fleetfoot when those other women accepted your proposals."

"Yes, well, Chizrae's different," he answered, somewhat irked that she would bring that up now.

"So, I've heard. Daerazal gave the impression she would hunt you down, drag you back, and tie you up if you so much as thought about straying. Sounds like you met your match."

Talvalo gave a small smile. "Well, I wouldn't put something like that past her. But she's a sweetheart once you get past her claws."

The bard shook her head and gestured as if in surrender. "Daerazal likes fangs. You like claws. What's a nice, _normal_ girl to do."

"Oh, don't feign innocence with me. Your pranks are anything but innocent. Remember the time you set off that sulfur bomb in the Arcane University lab and put it right under the vent that blew it into Magister Murdock's chamber?"

"He deserved that. Or don't you remember how he kept saying I should be mixing more potent compounds since I lived with a master alchemist? He wanted potent, so I gave him potent. He's lucky I didn't hide harrada enchanted with fire salts in his privy." She grinned, touching the baby's downy, white hair with her fingertips. "What's his name?"

"Nerevar d'Velve'Xukuth-Nethyr," the Altmer proudly informed her, but then caught her open-mouthed expression. "Now, I know what you're going to say. It's too long and quirky. But it's an Altmer-Drow combination, and we like it even if you, my mother, and anyone else hates it."

"_Nerevar_? You named your son Nerevar? You can't do that."

"The Nerevar bit was Chizrae's idea. She said it was to honor his memory and what Azura did for her. I was going to call him Kuth-nethyr, but I'm afraid that degenerated into Ku'ne after only a few days. I asked him which name he preferred, but he only leaned his head to the side and drooled a bit. So, I guess we'll have to wait a few years for his vote on the matter."

"But don't the local Dunmer find that a little ... blasphemous?"

"Oh please. The locals think Chizrae is Nerevar. Who's going to accuse the Nerevarine of blasphemy for naming his son after himself? Not that she _really_ used to be him, of course. At least she says she wasn't. I haven't found scar tissue to indicate otherwise. Do you honestly think I'd marry a dead general with gender issues."

Kielanai opened her mouth to speak.

"Don't answer that." Talvalo shifted his infant under his arm and attempted to prepare his guest a plate of hound and scuttle from the platter on the table. After a few failed attempts to slice the meat, however, he passed the baby to her. "Hold this, please. Be careful, though. It leaks out both ends."

Kielanai chuckled at his familiar prattle and accepted the infant, while he turned back around to continue his task of preparing her plate. Sitting down and turning the baby to face her, she was stunned to get a closer look at his eyes—eyes that shone with an animalistic sheen when she turned him away from the sun. Had he inherited his father's lycanthropic curse?

She started to ask, but decided against it, unsure how to approach the subject. Cuddling the baby close, she kissed his downy head, to which he cooed in response. "This is more like the Talvalo I once knew. Pass your child off on someone else at the first opportunity."

"I feel about as useful as teats on a boar," the battlemage groused. "I need six arms, a strong stomach, and the patience of a bottle of vintage wine. Chizrae has all those qualities, you know?"

Kielanai chuckled at his complaints as she shifted the baby in her arms. "She has six arms?"

"I know elemental spells that can rip the side off of an entire galleon, but I _still_ have to change diapers by hand. Where is the logic or justice in that?" He presented her with a full plate. "Why do magic schools never teach anything truly practical—like how to wash and dry a shirt that's been puked upon. Honestly, I can't even put a good silence spell on him to get me through the night because if something's wrong and he _can't_ cry, I'll never know something's wrong."

The battlemage sat down in the chair next to her and slouched with a heavy sigh. "I can't do this without her, Kielanai. I truly can't. I'm not _supposed _to be doing this without her."

As the bard sympathized with his sentiments, the large black wolf came to the table, sat on his haunches at her feet, and licked his lips while eying the plate of hound and scuttle. Considering how unusual the local Dunmer food looked, she was tempted to give him the entire helping.

"Don't offer him scraps, no matter what kind of puppy eyes he pulls on you," Talvalo warned. "Chizrae's already spoiled him rotten doing that."

"I'd rather him eat my lunch than me."

"He's harmless." Talvalo tousled the wolf's head. "Just a big dog, right boy? His name's Loki."

The bard hesitated to approach the subject again, but she knew it must be addressed. "Don't you fear for your son being around a wolf?"

The battlemage gave her a quiet smile. "What kind of father would I be if I didn't?"

"A father who has no fear of wolves for some _unusual_ reason." She decided to try the scrib jelly first and was pleased that it didn't taste as bad as it looked, but then she met her friend's pale green eyes with a steady, sobering gaze. "Does he have it, too … the curse?"

Talvalo sighed and focused on preparing his own plate. "I don't know yet. So far he shows no signs."

"His eyes ..."

"Yes, but his body hasn't changed, yet," he answered somewhat defensively.

"What will you do if it does? More important, how can you protect him when it happens to you?"

"I wouldn't allow myself to be here alone with him if I wasn't positive he was safe."

"And how can you be positive?"

He lifted the charm on his necklace between his fingers. "This calms the rage … on both me and Loki."

She glanced at the similar charm on the wolf's collar. "And if anything ever happens to the charm?"

"I would leave. No question about it."

"You can't leave a baby alone. Abandoning him is just as bad as injuring him."

He released the charm to finish preparing his plate. "At one point I considered giving him to my sister in Imperial City. You remember Ilansa, don't you? She's got four children now. But she doesn't know anything about this ... about me, I mean. If she finds out he's a carrier, she might not take him."

"I'm sure she would if she knew he was in danger with you. His condition is unknown, but yours is established," she gently reminded him.

"She'd refuse him to protect her own. And I'm _not_ telling anyone in my family that I've been infected. Do you have any idea what they would say and do? They'd take him away from me forever and ship him off to Skyrim or something. They'd accuse me of killing my father."

"You _did_ kill your father," she answered, a little more harshly than she intended.

"I didn't _mean_ to! I didn't know what I was doing. I couldn't control it!" Talvalo realized he had played right into her argument and stopped defending himself. Instead, he set down his fork and knife, set his elbows on the table, and buried his face in his hands.

Kielanai rested a hand on his arm. "I know you loved your father very much. And I don't question your love for your son. But while he's a baby, you can't deny he would be safer with someone else. If you are _certain_ that charm can calm the rage, come help us look for your wife. Daerazal and I are better-equipped to handle you if something goes wrong. Your son won't stand a fighting chance." She cast a glance toward Loki, who was still trying to look innocent and win some table scraps.

Talvalo lowered his hands to the table. "I can't do anything to hide my appearance during the moon phase. You are willing to travel with me like that?"

Kielanai offered a small smile. "I _know _you, Talvalo. You never intentionally cause harm. Well ... not usually. You're just idiotic sometimes, that's all."

His expression flattened at the uncomplimentary compliment. "Thanks. I feel much better now."

"I mean, I'm used to you doing things on impulse without really thinking them through, as if you were impervious to consequences. To be honest, I don't know what to expect with this lycanthropy stuff. It makes me nervous. But I still think you're better off coming to Akavir with us, than taking chances with your son when you transform."

"Transformation's not that bad—not since getting the charm. It still hurts like hell, but I have a few options now. I have two wolf forms - bi-pedal and quad. As a quad, I look almost like an ordinary white wolf. And I can change at will most of the time. It's just that when Masser is full, I'm _stuck_ in wolf form. I could change right now to show you, if you like. The only problem is wolves can't wear clothes, so when I change back I'll be stark naked."

She held up a hand and shook her head. "N-no, no. Not necessary. I'll take your word for it."

"If I go to Akavir and can't find appropriate shelter at the right time, not only would people find out I've been infected, but I could end up ass-bare in public if—"

"I'm sure we'll figure out something to cover that problem," she assured him. "_Literally._"

He picked up his fork and knife again to cut himself a piece of hound steak. "Well, whether I accompany you or not, at least I've found a way to get you to Akavir. Remember I told you I used to be a pirate? I sent a message to an old shipmate, and he's willing to take you to the Imperial ruins of Septimia. I think one of the Emperors tried to set up a colony there, or something, didn't he?"

Kielanai shook her head and patted the baby's back as he started to fret. "No pirates, Talvalo. Anything but pirates. You know how I feel about them."

"Your father was a pirate. You're a natural for this sort of thing."

"My father was a _Blades agent_ under the _guise_ of a pirate—big difference."

"Doesn't matter. It's in your blood."

"_No_, it's not."

"Ships to Akavir don't just drop out of the sky, Kielanai. We have to take what we can get."

"It wasn't that long ago that I finally _killed_ the pirates that ambushed my family. Pirates are traitors. I don't trust them, and I _won't_ sail with them."

"Well, your father played the role of a traitor among them, didn't he? There's good traitors, and there's bad traitors. Besides, you've traveled across the country with a _Drow,_ yet you don't trust me and my former _human_ ship mates? Do you have any idea what kind of person Daerazal used to be?"

"I trust you because you're like a brother to me. I trust Daerazal because he has proven himself to be loyal - _unbelievably _loyal. But, no, I will _not_ trust anyone that sails under the flag of a pirate ship."

The mage drew back in mild surprise and quirked a brow. "Daerazal? _Unbelievably_ loyal?"

"If these are the same men from Solstheim you used to sail with," she continued, "they're probably Nords. And Nords have been attacking Morrowind ships. They're more likely to turn on us than to take us anywhere. Don't you see that?"

"I'm still trying to figure out how my spry, cynical little brother-in-law came to be 'unbelievably loyal'."

The bard sighed, knowing the pirate argument was pointless now that he had something new and amusing to ponder. "Fine. Do you have any idea what happened to him with his old girlfriend—what he went through for her? Not to mention that fact that he's willing to go all the way to Akavir for his sister, or that he traveled all the way across Morrowind and Cyrodiil for you, or that he went into Oblivion for me. I'd call that unbelievably loyal."

Talvalo took another bite of his steak. "Are you aware of the fact that he once stabbed Chizrae in the back and left her for dead?"

"He's told me all about his atrocities from the past, but he's never raised a hand against me now. In fact, he can be quite gentle sometimes, like when I was sick. Not the smart-ass teasing, but after that when I was _really_ sick … when it really mattered."

Talvalo lifted the wine bottle to pour both of them drinks. He said nothing, but he still looked amused.

"He's very impressed that his sister and you have managed to forgive him, but Daerazal has never been able to forgive himself." Kielanai gasped with sudden realization. "Oh my gosh! That's it! Not only is he afraid of himself; he's never learned how to forgive himself!"

"I never needed to forgive him for anything," Talvalo corrected her. "I never knew him before he came here, but to hold him to a past that he despises would be to forbid him from having any kind of different future. And I know how that feels. I've been there." The battlemage set down the wine and lowered his gaze to his son. "He likes you," he added with a smile.

Kielanai's face flushed bright pink at his bold pronouncement. "What?"

"Ku'ne... he likes you," he clarified in small amusement as he stood. "He's falling asleep on your shoulder. I should put him down for a nap while I can."

The bard reluctantly released the sweet baby, and Talvalo lifted him from her shoulder to his own.

She turned her attention to the peaceful water and the drowess's moon garden. It was just as pretty in the midday sun, but now visibly graced with a small statue of Azura and some pink and yellow flowers as well. Loki hopped up in the empty chair and dropped his chin to his paws to continue giving Kielanai a more pathetic expression for want of some of her lunch. "Talvalo?" she spoke before he could take the drowzy infant inside.

He stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder.

"Did Chizrae ever find her peace of mind about her own past?"

"It's difficult to say. I mean, we all live with our regrets because they're in our memories. If we're smart, we learn not to make the same mistakes twice. If we're lucky, others will forgive us. But some things can never be taken back. They haunt us in spite of forgiveness and better awareness. I think she just learned to accept that, apologize where possible, and move on."

"And how do _you_ find peace of mind about the things she did?"

"That's easy." Talvalo offered a small smile and kissed his son's soft white head. "I love her." Turning back around, he took him inside and up the stairs to the bedrooms.

Loki looked over his shoulder. Seeing the battlemage had left, the wolf licked his lips and helped himself to the unguarded items left on his master's plate.

))((

After lunch, Talvalo gave Kielanai a grand tour of the main estate. He showed off their private armory of rare artifacts, weapons, and armor. He was proud to tell her how Chizrae ended Dagoth Ur's reign over Red Mountain. And he offered her use of Chizrae's alchemy lab during her stay. By the time he got around to showing her the library and its special collection of teleportation books, the bard almost felt as if she personally knew this woman she never met.

Chizrae was strong-headed, cunning, and mysterious ... just like her brother. Kielanai imagined the pair could be rather explosive in each other's company. She also soon began to read the emotion on Talvalo's features as he spoke of his wife. There was a mutual understanding between them that was hard to define, but it formed a strong bond of loyalty—from Talvalo's standpoint, at least. And that was saying something.

"Are you sure that she couldn't have accidentally touched one of your teleporting books?" Kielanai asked as her eyes traveled across the shimmering blue spines of the enchanted volumes.

"Chizrae never does anything by accident. Well …" Talvalo allowed himself a small chuckle. "Except for the time she threw the Menzoberranzan book at an Imperial spy who wanted to kill her and sent her to the land of the Drow."

"Shazi, right? Daerazal told me about that. No, wait—did you say the Menzoberranzan portal is a _book_? Is it here among these others?" She read the spines more carefully.

"It's not among these. Menzoberranzan is far more dangerous than Caldera or Balmora, so the book is covered in a protective cloth that nullifies its magic, and it's locked away."

"Have you been there?"

"No, but I've heard enough about it. And you don't want to be trapped in Menzoberranzan without a way back. These books automatically activate upon being touched, so I always carry a key that teleports me back here, and Daerazal has a ring that returns him to a secret cavern in Suran where the Menzoberranzan book is kept. You, my dear, have nothing. So keep your hands to yourself."

"There's a mage in Caldera that's going to make us a teleporting item to bring us back from Akavir in case of emergency. Do you think it could be a book, like these?"

"I don't know much about Alteration or Mysticism schools, but I suppose it could be. These came with the house when we bought it, but were made by the former owner's grandfather—a powerful Imperial mage, according to the journal left behind. Shazi was able to create the Menzoberranzan portal using an ancient Dwemer scroll that summoned raw magic into it like a sigil stone. I'm not sure how it worked, but I did get to look at it. It was absolutely amazing because it summons the magic like one would summon a daedra. To have command of the essence of magic itself and be able to bend it to your will ..." He shook his head in admiration of the discovery.

"Sounds like something the Ayleids would have done. Maybe the Dwemer got the idea from them. I have a sigil stone from Oblivion, but I suppose there's more to building a portal than just that. Daerazal said Chizrae had a sigil stone, too." Kielanai stopped scanning the books and turned to face her host. "Why did she go to Oblivion?"

"I believe it was the portal that allowed her to come here. Azura guided her through, supposedly. Chiz never said much about it."

"So ... there's actually more than one portal to Menzoberranzan?"

"Well, no. The book is the only real portal. The scroll was used to create portals. And the stone is more like a key with the power to unlock portals that already exist. It can be used to enchant any number of things, but she traded it to another Drow to get the scroll back and return it to the Arcane University where it belongs."

Kielanai turned this information over in her mind. Taking the sigil stones from the Oblivion gates was what thrust her back into her own plane. It was like slamming a door shut and taking the key to prevent it from ever reopening. She wondered if she should offer the sigil stone to Surane. The bard returned to reading the names of the Morrowind cities on the books, resisting the urge to touch them. "_Fort Frostmoth_?" she read.

"That's in Solstheim. That's the book we'll use to board the pirate ship."

"We are _not_ boarding any pirate ship." Her eye fell on _Caldera._ "Can we use this one to go back to the mage tomorrow?"

"Of course. Just make sure you take a key that will bring you back. You can use mine, if you like. Chizrae has the other one." The mage quieted again. "That in itself is strange. If she's okay, why isn't she teleporting home?"

Kielanai acknowledged his point, but continued scanning the book spines, and her eye fell on another familiar name. "_Vos_? There was someone in Vos I needed to speak with. He believes he's the descendant of a Tsaesci."

Talvalo quirked a brow of interest. "Vos is a Telvanni town ... mostly farmers and mages. In fact, it is one of the premier places to buy rare magical goods, if you're in the market for that sort of thing. Is the person you're looking for a mage?"

"I don't know." An idea came to her. "Do you suppose they would have magical disguises there—something to mask racial features? I'm sure elves don't exist in Akavir, and if we look too conspicuous we might get imprisoned as spies."

Talvalo mulled that over for a moment. "Maybe that has something to do with what's happened to her. As a dark elf, she wouldn't blend very well among the Tsaesci. Maybe they thought she was a spy. Tell you what. I'll go with you to Vos and ask about magical disguises while you find your contact."

"What about the baby?"

"What about him?"

"You'll have to take him with you."

"Yes, I know that, Kielanai. You really don't think I'm capable of this fathering stuff, do you?"

"No, I was just saying—"

"Pfft," he dismissed her comment and headed toward the door. "Let me show you the horses. I have some extremely rare breeds, and horses are rare in this land of overgrown bugs to begin with. I have one with a purple star that's been blessed by Azura, you know. It's the prize of the whole lot."

Kielanai smiled and shook her head as she followed him out of the library. Leave it to someone as colorful as Talvalo to find a way to breed colorful horses.

))((

That evening, after Daerazal returned and went over a supply checklist for the trip, Kielanai asked if they would show her to the tradehouse. She was hoping to ply a few tips out of anyone willing to listen to tales of her travels.

Arrille, the Altmer that owned the tradehouse, was excited to hear that a bard from Cyrodiil had news of the Oblivion Crisis, so he sent one of the local Bosmer around town to invite everyone in the small village to the upstairs tavern. The local Imperials who came were excited to hear news from the capital city. The local Dunmer were skeptical, yet curious enough to attend for the entertainment. Kielanai went all out to impress.

Dressed in her blue, velvet gown—the only formal gown she had dared to pack—the bard started the evening with an elf song. Then, having borrowed Talvalo's lute, she played a few tunes on that. She easily held the attention of the Imperials who missed the refined culture of Cyrodiil's large cities. But when she could tell she was beginning to lose the Dunmer commoners, she set aside the lute to begin her tales.

This time, she _did _add the drama and humor that had been missing when talking to Talvalo the night before. And once again, she exploited the Drow's talents in hopes of winning the favor of the other dark elves in the room. This time, Daerazal was not permitted to sit quietly. She poked and prodded him to share some of the action in the center of the floor. He declined at first, but when Talvalo and the other dark elves joined her poking and prodding, he sighed with resignation and stood.

"There will be payback for this," he muttered as he joined her in the small, open space between the bar and the tables.

The bard ignored the warning and faced the crowd. "And now, Sirrahs, for the final part of the story, Daerazal will be portraying the role of Mehrunes Dagon."

"_What_? I thought I was giving a sword demonstration."

"I want to dramatize the final battle for them. It wouldn't be the same if I told it with ordinary words."

"Ordinary words were good enough for Talvalo."

"He's just Talvalo." She waved him off, drawing a chuckle from the audience, as well as the battlemage. "Now, you stand over here." She hooked his arm and pulled him to the far corner of the room near the stairs, where patrons without seats stood against the rail in the packed tavern. "And try to remember what happened, so that you can really play the part."

The Drow shook his head at this ridiculous charade, but stayed in place.

"Okay." She scurried to the opposite corner near the bar. "While the Blades and the Legion—oh, and Daerazal—were fighting off the daedra _pouring_ into the Temple District, I ran with Martin into the temple. He said his goodbyes to me, but then Mehrunes Dagon smashed the dome open with his bare fists!" She looked to the Drow, but he was doing nothing in response. "You're not smashing anything."

"I don't think Arrille would like me smashing his tables."

"Well then _pretend_ to be smashing tables."

"Oh for gods' sakes, Daerazal. You have absolutely no imagination, do you?" Talvalo passed his baby to a local woman. To the amusement of the patrons, the Altmer went to stand by the Drow and coached him in how to strike monster poses for his role. "And growl or something. You're a dark elf warrior, damn it. Act like one."

"Don't tempt me," Daerazal answered, drawing an amused response from around the room.

"That's more like it!"

"Since you do it so well, maybe _you_ should be Mehrunes Dagon, and I'll be Martin Septim."

"No, I was going to be Martin," Kielanai inserted in protest.

"You can't be Martin. You're a woman," Talvalo refuted.

The bard pressed her lips together and marched to the battlemage's side. Placing her hands firmly on his shoulders, she escorted him back to his seat. "I'm the only one that saw what happened, and I didn't invite _you_ into my show. Sit down. Besides, how dare you criticize my acting skills when you can't even magic-away dirty diapers."

As that accusation drew more amused laughter from the house, the woman holding Talvalo's son gave the lively infant a light snuggle, as if he were innocent of all charges. The baby was too caught up in trying to grasp a napkin from the table to notice he was stealing the show for the moment.

"Well, if you're going to be Martin," Talvalo countered, "then I'll be you."

"You can't be me. I'm a woman. _And_ I'm the bard. I have to tell the story."

"Well, I almost became a bard. And you've already told me the story, so I am perfectly capable of retelling it to them."

Kielanai looked at the faces in the small topside tavern of the tradehouse. The crowd clapped and hooted for the bard and the mage to trade places. "Very well. The _battlemage_ will grace us with his storytelling skills." She gave Talvalo a low, playful bow, then turned and took her place in front of Daerazal to act out the final battle between the short-lived emperor and the Daedric Prince.

Talvalo took two empty cups and placed them over his chest like a bra. "Mehrunes Dagon entered the temple by crushing it with his fists," he began in falsetto.

Everyone howled with laughter. Even Daerazal cracked a grin to chuckle. Hands on hips, Kielanai pursed her lips and tried not to laugh with them. Returning to Talvalo, she snatched the cups, then transferred his son back into his lap. "Keep your father in line, or I might have to hurt him before we're done," she told the baby.

Talvalo laughed at his own triumph as Kielanai resumed her position and waited again. "Okay, Mehrunes Dagon entered the temple by crushing it with his fists," he announced in his clear, natural baritone.

Though he was still clearly self-conscious about being in the center of attention, the Drow's mood had been loosened a bit with Talvalo's impersonation of Kielanai. He gave a fierce growl, mimicking Talvalo's coached poses.

"Martin Septim confronted him and smashed the Amulet of Kings," Talvalo boldly narrated.

Everyone in the house, including the Dunmer, seemed to be enjoying this serious event retold as a comedy, so Kielanai threw an imaginary amulet to the ground, mashed it with her heel, and turned on her toes in a graceful circle imitating the ascension. But then she stuck her tongue out at the supposed Daedric Prince.

Talvalo chuckled at her impudence. "Martin then rose into the clouds and transformed into a golden dragon! The avatar of Akatosh had come to deliver Tamriel!"

Kielanai spread her arms like a dragon's leathery, talon-tipped wings and leaped at Daerazal in a mock battle swipe. Then, she circled behind him and confronted him with another swipe.

"The battle that ensued shook the heavens and the earth!" Talvalo continued, shifting his son from his knee to his shoulder to stomp the wood plank floor. Everyone else in the room joined in, making the small room rattle and thunder.

As Kielanai made a third swipe, Daerazal caught her wrists and held her at bay, trying to snarl like a demon—trying not to laugh.

"Oh, please. What kind of demon would hold a dragon's wrists?" she taunted and tried to push him back. "Draw your sword or something."

The Drow held his ground with little effort and looked to the audience as if he could have yawned at her efforts to fight him. They enjoyed this cocky indifference for a moment, but then he warped her tactics into a waltz.

"_Stooooop_," the bard protested, laughing as she tried to pull free. "You're supposed to be fighting, not dancing."

Talvalo wiped a tear from his eye as he suppressed giggles. "But then the mighty dragon bit the Prince of Destruction, breaking apart his material form, and banishing him back into Oblivion!"

The gold elf bared her teeth and launched herself at the dark elf's neck. Greatly amused that it had come to this, she bit down.

"_Aaa-tch! Iblith!_" Laughing, the surprised Drow tried to shield his neck with his shoulder, then twisted free and rubbed away the sensation.

"Oh, come on!" the battlemage criticized his brother-in-law's acting skills. "Daedric princes don't laugh when their necks are being mauled."

"She bit me!" the warrior protested.

"She's a _dragon,_" Talvalo stated the obvious.

"No, she _really_ bit me!" Daerazal insisted, drawing more laughs from the crowd.

Kielanai laughed with everyone else. She had never seen the Drow like this before ...truly happy and having fun. The unexpectedness of it began to wash over her, until it almost felt overwhelming.

"Mehrunes Dagon vanished, and the avatar of Akatosh hardened into stone, where it _still stands_ in the Temple District of Imperial City to this day," Talvalo finished to a round of applause. "And then everyone went to the taverns to party," he added with a grin to even louder applause.

The bard bowed politely to their appreciation, but then made her way to Talvalo and grabbed the neck of his shirt to tug his ear within whispering range. "I need to step out for a minute. Can you take over?"

"Of course. Are you alright?"

"Just need some fresh air," she excused herself with a smile, but wiped away a tear and avoided meeting Daerazal's gaze as she wound her way around the patrons toward the stairs. Heading down to the main shop area, she exited the building.

))((

Talvalo could tell people were wondering where she went, but he was at a loss to explain. So, he did the next best thing. He grabbed his empty beer mug and lifted it to sing.

_"When the glass is full,_

_Drink up! Drink up!_

_This may be the last time,_

_We see this cup._

_If the gods wanted us sober,_

_They'd knock the glasses over!_

_So while it is full,_

_We all drink up!"_

Talavalo waited until the patrons had all joined the toast and ordered another round before giving Daerazal a questioning look.

The warrior shrugged and returned a questioning look of his own, then excused himself from the gathering to head downstairs and look for the bard.

The back door of the tradehouse opened onto a deck overlooking a muck pond beneath some mossy cypress trees. Kielanai was leaning over the rail, as if she felt sick.

"Are you alright? Do you need to go home?" he asked as he crossed the small deck to her side.

"I'm fine," she answered in a small voice, keeping her gaze down at the muck pond. "Things got carried away in there. I'm sorry."

"Are you kidding? They loved it." He grinned as he leaned on the rail beside her. "You emulated the emperor's act of saving Tamriel without emphasizing any governing role of the Empire itself. Even the Dunmer are impressed with Martin Septim, now. And considering most of those people haven't spoken with Talvalo and Chizrae since the spy incident …"

"That's not what I mean."

"Well, anyway, you've given them a chance to win some friends back."

Kielanai lifted her chin to face him. "Do you _regret_ the way you treated your slaves?"

Daerazal blinked, surprised at her question as he was by her bite. "Well, that came out of the blue."

She said nothing, waiting for an answer.

The Drow sighed and wedged the toe of his boot between the slats in the rail. "Look, if I didn't have regrets, I wouldn't be here. I'd have looked for another Llothian house to take me in as soon as my own was absolved by the Council of Eight."

"And the gold elf slave ... if you could tell her you were sorry ..."

"I would. Don't tell me this is what upset you in there."

Kielanai straightened and held out her hand. "Come with me."

Skeptical of where this was heading, he took her hand and allowed her to lead him down the steps of the deck to the edge of the muck pond, where she broke off a blue, glowing coda flower, like the ones Chizrae had planted in her moon garden.

"When I was a child, my family used to make lotus blossom lanterns to set adrift on the sea to honor those who had been lost. It was a chance to wish them well on their journey beyond this life." She turned to give him the coda flower. "If your victim still haunts you, you must make peace with her spirit ... and every other person you have harmed. Your sister has already forgiven you for betraying her, but now you must forgive yourself. And you do that by expressing your regret to the people that need to hear it the most, even if only in spirit."

The Drow accepted the flower, but remained bewildered. "What does this have to do with what was going on inside?"

She smiled, but looked like she was going to cry. "You were _happy _in there."

He smirked and almost rolled his eyes. "I felt like a total ass, but … yeah, it was fun."

"It made me so happy to finally see you happy." And she did seem happy, but for once in her life, the bard seemed to find it difficult to express herself. "But then it made me sad because you so rarely allow yourself to be happy. You're still punishing yourself with so many regrets. As your friend, I'm asking you to do this. Forgive yourself so you can find your own peace of mind and be happy."

Daerazal groaned and almost turned away. "Friend …"

"Yes, _friend_. I share your laughter. I fall for your stupid pranks. I feel your pain," she stubbornly answered. "And, yes, I will cry if I lose you because you are an unbelievably _loyal friend_."

"Kielanai—"

"You didn't want to do that skit. You could have sat down and refused, or stormed out angry; but you did it anyway. _Why?_"

He considered walking away, but sighed and surrendered the answer she already knew. "You asked."

"You did it for me," she agreed. "Your hands may be stained with a selfish past, but your devotion to your house, your beliefs, your sister ... your friends, your love … has always been selfless and true. That's what attracted Mairiel to you. And that's what frightened her, too. She wanted a knight in shining armor, but couldn't see past tarnished armor to realize she had a shining knight. And neither could _you_."

Daerazal's eyes narrowed, annoyed that she was digging into his personal life again. "You're saying _I'm_ to blame for her indecision? After I tried so hard to please her and protect her?"

"Who were you protecting her from? The many forces of evil? Or _yourself_?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about." He turned to walk away.

"Mairiel was able to forgive you, but you couldn't forgive yourself—not even after making vows to a different goddess. Those vows were not made in the name of love. They were made in fear because you didn't trust yourself."

He stopped walking and looked down that glowing coda flower in his hand.

"That's why she couldn't make peace with your past," she continued. "There was no place for her in your future, because she had to share it with your memories. They will always haunt you, and you will never be free to be happy, if you don't make peace with yourself. Please, apologize to your former slave. Let her be the first memory to rest."

The Drow remained silent for a long moment, then turned to face the bard again. She almost looked like Eilistraee herself, cloaked in the shadows of night with that long, silver hair. A sign from the multiverse? Or just the ultimate in irony?

It was beginning to sprinkle, but Kielanai plucked another coda blossom and knelt beside the edge of the muck pond to set her own lantern afloat. "My guilt has been my greatest weakness on this trip. It's what made me so afraid I would screw things up again. That is what I realized about both of us when I saw you laughing and being happy. For a brief moment in there, we were both free. But I haven't truly felt free to enjoy anything since seeking revenge on the pirates when I should have been helping Martin. Or since leaving those Kvatch guards to suffer and die in Oblivion. Or since leaving Weye after arguing with Gwenyth, only to come home and find she had passed away in my absence."

She gave the glowing, blue flower a small push and watched it drift slowly toward the center. "I wish I could apologize to all the people I've let down. The gods have forgiven me, or they wouldn't have answered my prayers for healing in the Bruma chapel. But I still wasn't able to forgive myself. So that is what I'm doing here and now. I'm sending my apologies to their spirits and finding my peace." After a long moment of silence, she looked back over her shoulder to him.

Daerazal tapped the coda blossom against his fingertips, but then returned to the muck pond. Kneeling at the edge beside her, he set the flower in it. The muck was thick enough that it held the flower perfectly upright.

He could still see the hate and fear in the gold elf slave's face every time he drew near to her. He could still feel her knife burning through his flesh. He could still remember grabbing his two-handed sword and ending her struggle to be free of him. It seemed people were always wanting to be free of him ... except for this new gold elf in his life, who insisted on calling him friend.

Drawing his fingers around the flower, he cleared some of the algae so it could drift. Then, he wiped the mess on the leg of his pants. The ripples on the water's surface multiplied as rain began to fall.

Kielanai wrapped her arms around his, then rested her chin on his shoulder as they remained silent in the chill of the night, watching until the flowers' glows faded. "Do you feel free?" she quietly asked.

"I don't know yet. But she is, at least."

Behind them on the deck, the door of the tradehouse opened. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think Martin Septim and Mehrunes Dagon would have been doing that," Talvalo called down to them.

Kielanai smiled at the battlemage's comment, but kept her attention on the dark knight as she drew away from him and stood. "Thank you for hearing me out, and … again, I'm sorry about the kiss."

Daerazal was confused. "Kiss?"

A sheepish smile touched her lips. "I dragged you into the skit to get you back for scaring me last night. So when I was told to bite you, I remembered all the times you ragged me for not becoming a vampire. I thought it might be funny to give you a little … kiss. I didn't mean for it to really hurt, so that was way out of line. I'm sorry." The bard gave him an apologetic glance, then looked up at the night sky's increasing rain before jogging back to Talvalo on the tradehouse deck.

The Drow watched her leave, then turned his attention to the raindrops dancing on the moonlit water around the glowing, coda-blossom lanterns before standing and heading back to the deck where his friends were waiting for him.


	18. Chapter 18: Ashlands to Akavir

Chapter 18: Ashlands to Akavir

The following morning, when Kielanai and Daerazal arrived at Surane's house back in Caldera, she presented them with a scroll and an amulet bearing a chip of the dragon's tooth wrapped in copper wire. "Here's the way this works." The mage moved to stand between them and set the items on the table. "The scroll has a Mark spell written in dragon's tooth power. It's only good for one cast, so choose the location of your return _very_ carefully. Then, when you are in Akavir, if you get into trouble, use the amulet to cast a Recall spell. The forces between the ink on the scroll and the chip of the tooth should be strong enough to bring them back together, even from as far away as Akavir."

"... with _us,_" Daerazal inserted.

"Well, that's what we hope, isn't it." The mage smiled. "Have you found transport to Akavir, yet?"

The unconvinced Drow picked up the amulet to examine it more closely. "We've been offered a ship from Solstheim to Septimia."

"Septimia ... " Surane didn't seem to like that. "That's closer to us than the rest of the mainland, but proximity doesn't necessarily mean safety. An arrival in Septimia would definitely mark you as spies for the Empire."

"Why?"

"Well, you have to understand the relationship between Tamriel and Akavir to fully understand why Septimia is a bad idea. First, there's an ancient legend about a man named Lyrisius which mentions pirates from Akavir raiding the shores of Tamriel. It doesn't specify when or where this happened, but it mentions a race of dog or rat-faced people and tells how Lyrisius supposedly tricked a dragon into giving him a ride and helping him to defeat them.

"Then, in the First Era, the Tsaesci invaded Skyrim, but were stopped on the border of Cyrodiil at Pale Pass. We know captives were taken because they were later given amnesty to help fight the Aldmer. But now Kielanai is saying human remains were found there."

"_Akaviri human_ remains," the gold elf clarified, reminding Surane of some of the excursion details she shared the last time they visited. "I met the ghost of an armored, Akaviri human commander named Mishaxhi. He was still waiting for his orders, so I told him the war was over. He gave me his blade and made the other warriors stand down. The haunted pass is at peace now." She cast a side glance to Daerazal.

He gave a small nod of acknowledgment concerning their discussion the previous night.

"Later, in the Second Era," Surane continued, "that Tsaesci remnant and their descendants helped unify Tamriel, founded the first Fighter's Guild, and trained and organized the Blades. They even took temporary rule of all Tamriel until they were eventually assassinated by the Morag Tong and the Dark Brotherhood. If humans were among their ranks, that would explain how some Tamrielic people have come to claim ancestry from Akavir, even though few can prove it.

"Then, some time after that, Ada'Soom Dir-Kamal, a demon king from Kamal in Akavir, invaded Morrowind, but was defeated by Almalexia and the Underking at Red Mountain."

"Sounds like Akavir has always been determined to get a piece of Tamriel," Daerazal commented, fingering the dragon's tooth amulet.

"Yes, but ..." Surane held up a finger. "Then Uriel V decided he wanted a piece of Akavir. He failed miserably, conquering only a few islands and colonizing two mainland cities in Tsaesci at Septimia and Ionith before being struck down. Few made it back home to tell the tale of what happened. News from Akavir has been almost non-existent since then, and any field agents sent there on missions have disappeared, never to be heard from again."

"So, contact with Akavir has always come from the north, and from multiple enemies," he summarized.

Surane nodded. "But we picked the last fight. It's highly unlikely the Tsaesci would let the Empire walk away from Septimia without holding a grudge. I think they're just waiting for the right opportunity to retaliate. And now that we have no emperor, I can't think of a more opportune time. If word reaches Akavir that the Septim line has come to an end, it would be unwise to provoke them by sending two Blades agents to Septimia."

"We're not Blades agents," Daerazal countered.

"But you see why they have ample reason to assume you are. Steer clear of any places where Tamriel had previous run-ins with the Tsaesci kingdom."

"I wish my father and grandfather were still alive to explain more about Akavir's politics regarding Tamriel," Kielanai spoke, then looked to the dark elf. "Do you think the pirates from my _kojima_ could have been scouting the shores for another invasion?"

He easily followed her train of thought. "An invasion from the southwest would definitely be unexpected and unguarded by comparison."

"Jauffre said my father's records still existed in the archives, but they were locked away," she reminded him. "Do you think there might be something worth reading there?"

"If they were locked away by Elder Council members who don't want attention brought to the region, it's possible," he agreed.

Surane became concerned at the direction this conversation was turning. "Is there a traitor in the Elder Council who _knows_ of Akaviri operations on the southern coast?"

Daerazal shook his head. "Speculation ... nothing more." Having no proof to offer, he wished he had spoken with Caius Cosades more in-depth about the subject before leaving Cyrodiil. "Do you know of any personal enemies Vivec might have that would sell him out to Akavir?"

"You mean other than the Nords of Skyrim and King Helseth? It's no secret that the Nords resent Solstheim being given to Morrowind, but now they're openly attacking to take it back. With news of the emperor's death, the fighting there will only increase. And Helseth ... he's been struggling to unify the great houses under Imperial rule, whereas Vivec preferred Morrowind to be left to its native Dunmer. I'm grateful to have Helseth on the Empire's side, but his motives are dark and, in the past, his actions have hinted at things even darker. He's desperate to bring the riches of the Empire to this barren land, but for all the wrong reasons."

"He once used the Dark Brotherhood for an attempted assassination on the Nerevarine," the Drow added. She wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know yet. "Chizrae confronted him about it."

"I heard about that," Surane agreed, straightening. "So, considering that and the mysterious death of his father, I wouldn't put it past him to secretly offer Solstheim to the Nords as bait to rally Morrowind into unification. And now that Vivec and the Nerevarine are missing ... well, that only stirs the kettle to make it boil faster, doesn't it."

The mage went to her bookshelf. Selecting one of the books, she returned and opened a map of Akavir before them. "If you're considering taking a ship to Septimia, I should also warn you that what plagued Uriel V the most during his invasion was stormy weather. It completely destroyed the Far East Fleet coming and going, so much so that we can't help but wonder if the Tsaesci had some magical means of controlling it. It seems impossible because of the power needed to do such a thing over such a vast area, but we know so little about Akaviri magic that we truly can't say. I mean, I'm still trying to figure out whether ancestor bridges really do bring the dead back to life, or whether they're just called that because of a symbolic meaning, even if they lead to nowhere."

Kielanai straightened and blinked in a wary manner. "Bridges that lead to _nowhere_?"

"That bamboo scroll found with the dragon's tooth discusses transportation options in Akavir—what kinds of boats they used, what kinds of roads they built, what kinds of mounted beasts they rode, as well as levitation and teleportation magic. It mentioned something called _'sakin__o__ya hashi'—_ancestor bridges. They're bridges built facing open water, rather than connecting land. As far as being bridges, they're useless, so I figured they were symbolic of a journey beyond this life. But the wording is vague, like most things written about Akavir."

"May I see that scroll?" Kielanai asked, trying not to appear too anxious.

"Certainly. Oh, and here is the most current map I have of Akavir. See if you can find a better landing point than Septimia. I'm afraid we haven't been able to study anything further inland or beyond the southern coast, so much of Akavir is still unknown to us. You really are entering uncharted territory." Surane left the book with them and hurried down to her bedroom to retrieve the ancient treasure.

"I _knew_ that bridge behind my house had to lead somewhere!" the bard hissed with excitement.

"A bridge that leads to dead people and an amulet that might come back without us," Daerazal muttered as he pocketed the Recall amulet and Mark scroll. "I think I'll be paying Talvalo's pirate mob for round trip expenses instead." He pulled the book toward himself to study the map.

"I'm not going anywhere with Talvalo's pirate mob," the bard reaffirmed her protest.

When Surane returned, she was wearing gloves to protect the old bamboo scroll she carried and set it on the table. Carefully unfolding each delicate, accordion-style strip, she slid it toward Kielanai for further examination. "_Sakin__o__ya hashi_," she pointed to the illustration and characters where the passage describing them began.

Daerazal leaned over her shoulder and immediately recognized the design of the bridge matching the one behind the gold elf's island home. The bard's excitement, however gradually fell into a frown after reading the faint script with the illustration.

"These characters don't say 's_akin__o__ya_'. They say '_mononoke_'."

Surane was puzzled, but looked again at her incorrect translation. "Are you sure? I'm not familiar with that word."

"A _mononoke_ is a vengeful spirit." The bard squinted at the faded, old characters, then paused to translate aloud. "_Mononoke no hashi ha orimasu_ ... descends. In the passage of time ... meet with ancestors who can carry you into ... land beyond." She lifted her chin to see that Surane was pleased she had translated the rest of it correctly, at least. "Land beyond ..."

The mage shrugged helplessly. "I don't know much about what kind of spiritual beliefs the ancient Akaviri may have had, but it seems symbolic of some kind of afterlife. But to be included in a transportation scroll, one would think it had a more practical use, even if it's just to serve as a shipping dock."

"Meet with ancestors … Maybe it refers to underwater tombs?" Kielanai absently answered as she scanned the rest of the bamboo scroll. "Or maybe it's some kind of ancient teleport device that uses dragon tooth power and pearl dust," the bard suggested, looking up at the mage. "Pirates are too lazy to build a bridge to nowhere, and they wouldn't have the decency to build a tomb. They're selfish and practical. It's got to be a teleport to Akavir!"

The mage nodded in eager agreement. "That would explain why it was included in the list of transportation methods, if it's true!"

Daerazal was wary. "Keep in mind we're looking for my sister, not just _any_ passage to Akavir. Even if your bridge does teleport, you have no idea where it leads. And what about this _mononoke_? Vengeful spirits _can't_ be a good thing. We need reliable transport that will take us to a place of our choosing," he argued. "Chizrae and Vivec would have taken a ship out of northern Morrowind, so that's what we need to do if we intend to find them."

Surane shook her head, wondering if she heard right. "Excuse me, but ... are you saying you know where one of these bridges exists ... _here_ in Tamriel?"

"Behind my home on an island off the coast of Anvil, facing the open sea," the bard answered, carefully unfolding more of the aged bamboo slats. "Tsaesci pirates built it after they seized the island from my family. I can tell it used to be enchanted because it's been infused with pearl dust. But I had no idea what kind of enchantment it could have been … until now."

Surane grinned and grasped Kielanai's wrist. "You _must_ take me to that bridge!"

Daerazal frowned at their shared thrill about the discovery. "_After_ we find out what happened to Chizrae." His mission to find his sister had waited long enough, and no magical-bridge-to-nowhere on the other side of Cyrodiil was going to interfere with his progress now.

))((

"I have to go back home and see where that bridge leads," Kielanai insisted as she followed Talvalo and Daerazal along the dirt road that partially encompassed Vos. She cuddled her friend's infant beneath her chin as she looked up at the huge, oddly shaped mushroom architecture that intertwined around the Telvanni town's walls. This was rural Morrowind at its finest.

"But you don't know where it leads," Talvalo argued, taking up Daerazal's side of the coin. The battlemage was looking and acting a little more like his old self today. He was dressed in enchanted red robes that matched his fiery hair, which was drawn back in its customary jeweled clasp. "At least you can navigate a ship. You can't navigate a mysterious teleporting device. It just dumps you somewhere."

"If the Imperial Fleet couldn't sail to Akavir, what makes you think your motley crew can?"

"The same thing that enabled a motley crew to bring your parents to Tamriel—willpower and strength."

"Those pirates were _leaving_ Akavir, and for all we know they could have been scouts testing the southern coast of Tamriel to see if it was suitable for an invasion. I'm telling you, this bridge is our free ride."

"To what? A Tsaesci pirate cove? I'm sure they'd welcome a bunch of elves from Tamriel, one of which slaughtered their ship mates." Talvalo held up a hand to interrupt her argument before she could continue it, as well as to stop the first Dunmer that they came across outside the small town of Vos.

"Excuse me, my good sir. Could you tell us where to find a man named ..." He held out his hand to Kielanai, who snarled with irritation, but passed him her notebook. Talvalo looked down to read the name he was seeking. "… Rindaalyn Zhiannizhian?"

The Dunmer commoner gave the Altmer noble a disdainful look. "Outlander _s'wit_ ... What makes you think I'd want to tell you anything?"

Talvalo sighed and passed the notebook back to their bard to reach into his money pouch. "I forgot how _friendly_ Telvanni outposts could be," he muttered as he pinched a few septims, forced a smile, and pressed them into the Dunmer's hand. "Perhaps that's a few reasons in our favor?"

"He lives behind the tower on the coast in a guar-skin yurt—strawberry-gold hair and yellow eyes. Should be easy to spot. Better tell your wife to hide the kid, though. Ashlanders like to take down weaklings first and save the bigger challenges for bloodsport." The Dunmer commoner pocketed his profit and chuckled gruffly to himself as he headed on his way.

"Oh, but I'm not his ..." The bard immediately offered Talvalo his son back. "If Ashlanders are that bad, I'm not endangering little Nerevar by taking him with me."

Talvalo wasn't eager to accept. "I have Telvanni wizards to impress, Kielanai. Do you know how hard it is to look like a dangerous battlemage when you're holding a baby? What if he spits up again. You can't just wash stains like that out of magical robes, you know. Besides, you _asked_ to hold him."

She frowned at his excuses. "You would honestly put your son at risk going into Ashlander territory?"

"It's not Ashlander territory. The coast is behind the tower and down the hill. And all you have to do is tell them he's the Nerevarine's son. They'll love him. Who could resist that face?"

Her frown deepened as she continued holding his child out to him.

The battlemage sighed and unbuttoned his magical raiment to remove it. Rolling up his sleeves, he draped the robe over one arm, but as he accepted the baby, he held him eye-to-eye with the bard. "Fear the mighty Nerevar! This kid won't be cutting his teeth on a guar-skin ball; he'll be cutting them on the bones of Dagoth Ur!"

The baby smiled and reached slobbered fists toward Kielanai's cheek with a squeal of delight.

She dried the tiny hands and kissed the baby's cheek. "Your father is very strange. Let's hope you turn out like your mother."

"Be careful what you wish for." Talvalo propped his son against his shoulder and pointed to the tower ahead of them. "Alright, I'm going in there where most of the community services are located. Unless you have levitate spells, don't bother trying to follow. Telvanni wizards like to keep their best goods out of the reach of commoners ... and Outlander _s'wits_. Go find your contact, and I'll meet with you here when I'm done."

Kielanai nodded and left with Daerazal. It was a simple matter to walk the exterior perimeter of the hybrid mushroom-fortress tower and go down the hill toward the sandy shores. There was only one guar-skin yurt standing alone on the outskirts. It was surrounded by the same tall, green grass as the rest of the Grazelands, but it had a space cleared for a guar-skin canopy propped against the side of the yurt, a small vegetable garden, a hammock, and a cold, but well-used, campfire. Slaughterfish and mudcrabs hung on a line drying in the sun. And a freshly stripped guar skin was tied to a stretching frame nearby. So … this was how Ashlanders lived. It seemed quiet and quaint compared to the hustle and bustle she was used to in the cities and towns across Cyrodiil.

"These guys normally don't like visitors—at all," the Drow warned as they drew closer to their destination. "Be ready to defend yourself if he comes out armed." Stepping around the line of drying seafood near the canopy, he approached the tent flap. "Rindaalyn Zhiannizhian?" he called.

They could hear movement inside the yurt. A few seconds later the guar-skin flap was drawn back and a surprisingly young, male Dunmer with long copper-colored hair poked his head out. Kielanai was astonished to see that his golden eyes had vertical pupils—like that of an animal.

Those strange eyes narrowed with irritation at the sight of the other dark elf, but when he saw the gold elf, he went a step further and drew his dagger. "What do you want?"

Kielanai stepped back before offering open hands as a gesture of peace. "We just want to talk to you. We're going to be leaving for the eastern continent of Akavir soon, and a man named Durain Sharl told us you believe you are of Tsaesci descent." Durain had not mentioned his contact was so young.

Rindaalyn slowly straightened and stepped out of his hut to more closely study the strangers. "I remember Sharl. He asked for my help finding the three main Ashlander camps once." The dark elf wore pants and knee-boots of tanned animal skin, leaving his ash-blue, naked torso exposed, except for some tribal markings painted on his shoulders and ribs. He was still skeptical, though. "Why do you go to Akavir?"

Feeling unfamiliar with the customs of this land and its people, Kielanai looked to Daerazal for help.

The Drow knew exactly what to say. "We're looking for the Nerevarine."

When the Dunmer's suspicion melted into astonishment, Kielanai picked up the explanation. "We fear she may be in trouble."

"And you ask for my help with tracking?" The teen was awed. "I have never been to Akavir, but the Nerevarine freed us from the curse of Dagoth Ur. And the Nerevarine will free us from the Empire. I will be proud to help the Nerevarine, if I can. Wait here. I will pack."

Kielanai winced slightly at his mention of rebellion against the Empire, but she was surprised at how easily and quickly he was willing to cooperate.

Daerazal caught the youth's jaw in his hand before he could enter his tent. "Show me your teeth."

The Dunmer teen gave a faint snarl in response to the older dark elf's order, but then opened his mouth to reveal somewhat elongated canines.

"Oh, lookie there—fangs," the bard candidly remarked. "Now all you need is a cat suit and you can really enjoy each other's company."

Daerazal cast the bard a flat expression, then turned his attention back to the youth. "Everyone knows the Tsaesci are vampires. How's your taste for blood?"

"No different from yours," Rindaalyn answered, bitter about being accused.

"Wrong answer. Try again."

"I am the grandson of a Tsaesci pirate that was shipwrecked along the western shores bordering Skyrim, but I am _not_ a vampire." The snake-eyed Dunmer pushed the Drow's hand away.

"More Tsaesci pirates ..." Kielanai looked to Daerazal with concern. "I think they've definitely been scouting our shores again—here as well as near Anvil."

"Do you come from the region that borders Skyrim?" Daerazal asked him.

"No. My grandmother did. They traveled to Blacklight, then crossed the Inner Sea to Vvardenfell. None of the tribes here would take them in, so they lived as outcasts under the shadow of Red Mountain. My mother was born there, but came further east to the cities. I was born here."

"Is your grandfather still around?" Kielanai asked.

"I doubt it."

"What about your mother? Could we talk to her?"

"No," he said with a snarl. "The Dunmer of the city thought we were half-Argonian. They told us to leave their city and find an Ashlander camp, but we could not live with Ashlanders because they called us 'Outlander'. And then these same city Dunmer that chased us away ... they were happy to use my mother until she caught the disease from the devil mountain. Then they murdered her."

Kielanai saddened and looked to Daerazal with worry.

"Corprus," the warrior answered her questioning look. "Dagoth Ur's blight disease was carried on the wind from Red Mountain. It 's highly contagious and turns people into monsters. If his mother was infected with the plague dust, the townsfolk would have had to do something about it to keep it from spreading to them. Chizrae contracted it during her attempts to clear out the Sixth House."

"The Nerevarine is immune to the devil's wind," Rindaalyn inserted. "That's how she was able to enter the mountain and kill the devil himself. This is what the Prophecy said would be true."

"She was only immune because she managed to find an experimental cure," Daerazal explained, clearly not in the mood to argue about prophecies. "You live out here on your own?"

"I'm strong and fast," the youth boasted. "I can take down alit and netch with nothing but my bow."

"Do you ever go into town?"

Rindaalyn shrugged. "I go sometimes, but the land gives me everything I need. I know it well."

"Then you go just to see it? You must not be too terribly set against civilization?"

The Ashlander youth quieted, as if ashamed to admit any fascination with the nearby town. "They have magical things—fine bows and armor stronger than silt strider chitin or netch leather."

"Netch?" Kielanai questioned. She'd never heard of such a thing.

"It's a … sort of … flying jellyfish," Daerazal answered.

"Flying ... _jellyfish_." The bard thought it must be the most disgusting beast in Morrowind yet.

The Dunmer turned a dour expression toward the bard. "Why would an Altmer want to help the Nerevarine?"

"She's going to be our translator," the Drow informed him. "Her family was from Akavir, too."

Rindaalyn drew closer to Kielanai to study her features more closely. "You don't look Tsaesci. You don't even look full Altmer."

"Why does everyone assume I'm Tsaesci? My Akaviri family was human—not that it should matter," she answered, a bit defensively.

"There are no humans in Akavir," the youth answered. "My grandfather's people ate them all."

"Well, my grandfather survived, or I wouldn't be here."

"Then your grandfather was probably my grandfather's slave."

Kielanai quirked an indignant brow. "Do you want to come with us, or are you just begging to have your ears boxed?"

"I told you to wait while I pack." Rindaalyn lifted the flap of his guar-skin yurt and disappeared within to grab whatever meager belongings he considered valuable enough to take along.

"He's going to be a peach," the bard grumbled under her breath as soon as the youth was out of earshot. "He's like a mini-you."

The Drow was amused with that comparison. "He's a wild-ass barbarian. At least I have _some_ civilized qualities."

The bard gave him a doubtful side-glance. "Name one."

"I can waltz and recite poetry. And I have it on good authority that I look very _dapper_ in gentlemen's clothing."

Kielanai chuckled lightly at his boast.

It took Rindaalyn all of fifteen minutes before he was ready to follow the two other elves back to Vos. Talvalo was already waiting at the signpost outside of the town walls when they arrived, but when he saw that they were accompanied by the Ashlander, he frowned and turned his shoulder to shield his infant son who was sound asleep. "What's this?"

"Talvalo, this is Rindaalyn," the bard introduced them.

"_That's_ Rindaalyn? You've invited him to come along? I thought you just wanted to talk to him."

"He wants to help find the Nerevarine, his grandfather was Tsaesci, and he's a hunter and a scout. He might prove helpful," Kielanai offered.

"He's a bit young, don't you think?"

"I am more of a man than some fru-fru magic user," Rindaalyn answered in his own defense.

"_Fru-fru?_" Talvalo scowled. "I _happen_ to be a _battlemage_." He turned to Kielanai. "Do you see what I mean? It's impossible to look powerful and menacing while holding a baby."

The bard sighed at his complaint. "Did you find any magic to help disguise us?"

"Well, they had a race regeneration amulet that allows the wearer to switch differently enchanted gemstones to gain the appearance of other races, but they were all Tamrielic races. I almost bought it, but realized switching from one Tamrielic race to another wouldn't accomplish anything. I asked if they could create one for Akaviri races, and they said no because they had no idea what they looked like. So, I'm afraid our own beautiful elven faces will have to do."

The Drow sighed in discouragement. "That means more sneaking and less open mobility."

"I'm good at sneaking," Rindaalyn volunteered.

"Until some predator catches a whiff of those smelly animal skins," Talvalo answered in retaliation for the scout's earlier comment.

Rindaalyn's lip curled. "I could take down any predator that dares to challenge me, gold elf _s'wit_."

Talvalo's lip curled in the same manner at the challenge. "_Any_ predator?"

"_Talvalo._" Kielanai scolded the were-mage, knowing what he was thinking.

He feigned innocence. "I'm just pretending to show interest in his snotty little boast; that's all."

Daerazal shook his head. Kielanai folded her arms and gave the mage a look of reprimand. Rindaalyn was thoroughly unimpressed.

Without further argument, Talvalo sighed and reached into the pocket of his rumpled robe to retrieve the teleportation key that would take all of them back to his home in Seyda Neen.

A clap of thunder resounded as the magic in the teleporting key returned all four elves to the entrance hall. But the cloud of magical ozone had not even cleared when someone ran straight for the battlemage, grasping him by the shirt. "Talvalo!"

The Altmer tore free and twisted to one side to shield his infant son from the unexpected attack.

Daerazal drew Spider Bite and snatched the back of the intruder's tattered attire to pry him away from the battlemage and the baby.

Kielanai, though terribly confused at the sudden flurry of action, drew her own katana and instinctively stepped in front of Talvalo and the baby to shield them in case the attacker got past the Drow.

Rindaalyn had been too stunned by the magic to realize what was happening until it was over.

The intruder was a ragged-looking Dunmer with golden rings piercing his sharp ears and the bridge of his hawk-like nose. Blood caked the side of his bald head down his temple. His lip was cut and his eye was bruised. His muscles fluctuated between spasms of pain and fatigue. "Talvalo, you've got to come to Akavir as soon as possible! You've got to stop them! You've got to free Chizrae and Vivec!"

Scowling with hate, the Drow slammed the intruder's face into the wall and pinned him there in a prone position with the edge of his deadly blade against the Dunmer's throat. "How the hell did you get in here, and what do you know about what's happened to Chizrae?"

"Daerazal!" With alarm, Kielanai caught his wrist to stay his hand. "If you kill him, you won't hear what he has to say."

Talvalo stepped from behind the bard to confront his attacker with disbelief. "Jiub?"

Kielanai was surprised to see that her friend knew the stranger who attacked him.

"Jiub's an old friend of Chizrae's, but he was in on Shazi's plot to murder the Nerevarine," Daerazal told her her, but he kept his glare on the thief beneath his grip. "He's the one who came to Menzoberranzan to hire me as my sister's assassin."

Kielanai looked to Talvalo for confirmation. The angered battlemage nodded in agreement.

"Kimmuriel Oblodra killed Shazi," Jiub quickly informed him, hoping that would appease the Drow's instinctive taste for revenge. "Shazi was dead the minute she set foot in Menzoberranzan."

The Drow jerked the Dunmer around to face him and then slammed his back against the wall, holding him with a strong arm, the blade still ever-so-close under his chin. "I know _exactly_ what Kimmuriel did to Shazi. I'm just disappointed he didn't do the same thing to you," he answered in a menacing tone.

Jostled from his sleep in all the noise and action, the infant started to cry.

"Kielanai ..." Talvalo approached the bard with an expression of tempered rage and offered his son to her. "Please? Take him some place safe and guard him with your life," he quietly asked.

The baby needed to be removed from the threat, and since she didn't know the stranger the way that her friends did, Kielanai dutifully sheathed her sword and accepted the infant. "Daerazal may need help staying his hand if you are to gain any information about Chizrae," she whispered to her friend's ear during the exchange.

Talvalo nodded, but his attention returned to the intruder as he removed the calming charm from his throat.

"What are you doing? You need to keep that charm on, Talvalo."

"Get my son out of here, Kielanai," he answered in a measured, even tone.

Conflicted about staying, but knowing she had to go, Kielanai held out her hand to the young Ashlander in their company. "Rindaalyn?" This was no place for him, either.

Though he was even more clueless than Kielanai about what was going on, the teen drew his small chitin axe and planted himself between the two men holding the thief and the bard with the infant. "No. The more barriers to break through, the better the chances for the baby."

Though Kielanai was hesitant to leave the youth in the path of harm, she reminded herself that he was an experienced hunter. That was why he was coming with them to Akavir, and he would probably face many more dangers there. Placing her hand on the baby's soft, downy head, she headed to the kitchen to find a bottle of nut milk and a safe hiding place for him, should it come to that.

))((

Once he felt his son was safe, Talvalo turned to face the thief pinned beneath the Drow's grip. Though he said nothing, his expression darkened as he drew near.

Rindaalyn moved into the doorway of the main hall to cut off any chances of the intruder's escape into the rest of the house.

"Give me one good reason to let you live," Daerazal hissed to the thief.

"Chizrae," Talvalo answered, dropping his calming charm over the Drow's head.

Daerazal immediately felt the tension in his muscles relax. His anger was replaced by a deep sense of peace, and his urge to slice the traitor into a million little pieces changed into a realization that this man could be the missing link. Reluctantly, he gave his brother-in-law a nod of gratitude.

Jiub swallowed hard and raised his hands in attempt to prove he had no intention of fighting back. "Look, I know I deserve whatever you two want to throw at me, but hear me out first. After Kimmuriel killed Shazi, he told me to seek out a Matron Mother in a place called Guallidurth."

"_What_?" Daerazal's outrage almost surfaced again, but the charm held it back. "What the hell did he do that for?"

"Not to credit that sick bastard with wanting to do me any favors, I think Kimmuriel gave me their names so he could send me to my death," Jiub cynically admitted.

"Guallidurth ..." Talvalo's pale green eyes locked onto the Dunmer thief. "Where have I heard that name before?"

"It's the Llothian city Chizrae infiltrated as an Eilistraeen spy before she came to Morrowind," Daerazal reminded him. "She pissed them off by stealing some kind of magical staff."

"Ah, yes," the battlemage remembered now. "So when she suspected someone was plotting against her here, she thought the Llothians from Guallidurth had found a way to track her between worlds. Instead, it was Shazi and Jiub hiring you."

Talvalo looked again to the guilty thief. "Jiub, you remember what I am, don't you? You and Shazi tried to control me once, hoping I would frame myself for murder. So, you should know I've given my little calming charm to the Drow, here. And if this unexpected visit doesn't end with something useful for finding my Chizrae … I'm going to rip your throat out," he quietly threatened.

Jiub's nostrils flared at the danger he knew he was in, but he swallowed and continued his tale. "I was too afraid to leave Menzoberranzan at first, but I didn't want to stay in that hell hole for the rest of my life. So I joined a merchant caravan heading to Guallidurth. I spoke with the Matron of the First House, Drael Nardoorl. And I explained that I was Dunmer and how I came to be there. I asked if they could create a portal that would take me back to Morrowind, in exchange for whatever price they named. I was thinking in terms of whatever treasures I could beg, borrow, or steal, but ... they wanted to know where they could find Chizrae."

The Drow warrior snarled and snatched the thief closer. "_Ele dos t'zarreth—_"

"Let him finish!" Talvalo firmly pushed Daerazal back and swiped the enchanted sword from his hand.

Daerazal grasped the calming amulet in his fingers and considered breaking the thing from its chain to rid himself of its pacification, but at the same time, it was unnaturally comforting to know that something was holding him back.

The towering, Altmer battlemage grasped the small, Dunmer thief's raiment and dragged him past Rindaalyn through the front hall toward the sitting room to plant him down in a chair before the fireplace. But then he lifted Daerazal's magnificent sword to the traitor's throat. "This is the part where I remind you that you've already betrayed us once, and right now your life is only worth what you can offer to help us get her back."

"I didn't betray her this time! I just wanted to get the hell out of the Underdark, man! I thought I would be able to shake them off in Akavir, come back to Morrowind, and that would be the end of it!" Jiub continued in desperation.

"You don't _shake_ Llothians!" Daerazal marched after him. "They never forget—never forgive!" The Drow thought the Dunmer looked rather twitchy in his confession. He had no doubt seen enough Llothian activity to give him nightmares for the rest of his life. Drawing a breath of calm, Daerazal removed the wolf-charm. Released from its magic, he gave it to Rindaalyn, along with a stern expression that effectively commanded the teen to stay put. Then, approaching Jiub again, hands on the arms of the chair, the mercenary met the gaze of the nervous thief.

For a moment, the Dunmer's crimson eyes locked into the Drow's crimson eyes, both of them connected through dark horrors neither of them wanted to mention. "I still work for Kimmuriel, you little shit," Daerazal finally spoke. "You've just confirmed my sister is in Akavir with Vivec, and I know where Guallidurth is. That's enough to put me on her trail without anything else from you. So, either you tell us _everything_ you know about what's happened to my sister, or we're going to make you wish you never left Menzoberranzan."


	19. Chapter 19: Traitor

Chapter 19: Traitor

Jiub broke into a sweat just thinking about his time in the Underdark. The Llothian Drow and their don't-fuck-with-me attitudes meant everyone in the city lived in a permanent state of paranoia. Everyone was armed and ready to backstab anyone whom they thought might backstab them first. It was a delusional disease that prophetically fulfilled itself all over the city. And it rubbed off on anyone who dared to enter … especially visitors who had no coin or goods to trade as an excuse for being in the Realms without Light. Fear was what kept you alive in such places where shadows were everywhere - that and quick mental and physical reflexes. But sometimes not even that helped. "I went after Kimmuriel because he took my portal ring and was threatening to give it to the First Matron of Guallidurth," he reminded Daerazal.

"A threat to make sure Chizrae kept the book portal under lock and key," Daerazal returned, still angry and waiting to hear new information about what happened to his sister. "He had no intention of leaving Menzoberranzan open to an invasion from a land he knew nothing about."

"And I had no intention of giving any Drow free access to invade Morrowind, but that's what's happened anyway!" Jiub snapped.

The angry glares of the green-eyed battlemage and the crimson-eyed warrior drew closer. "_What's _happened anyway?" Talvalo demanded. "Has Kimmuriel brought a Drow army into Morrowind?"

"Kimmuriel wouldn't do that," Daerazal immediately answered. "He spent a lot of effort withdrawing Jarlaxle's surface network in our own world to keep a tighter fist on local business in Menzoberranzan. He's not the type to conquer anything by rushing it like a fool."

Jiub sighed in despair and decided to just continue his tale. "I thought that if Shazi could distract Kimmuriel, I could steal my ring back. Since Shazi and I found out Chizrae was afraid of the Drow of Guallidurth, Shazi thought they might be a more likely hire to finish _your_ job. She asked Kimmuriel if he could arrange a meeting."

Daerazal's grimace deepened.

Jiub swallowed with difficulty and his heart began to race. "He answered by weaving some kind of psychic shield around her and struck at it with his sword, tormenting her like some kind of trapped practice dummy. She ended up terrified, though she wasn't even scratched. But as soon as he dropped the shield, all those cuts he made into the barrier—every one of them—sliced her to shreds in a _second_." He was still shaking at the memory.

"Kimmuriel spared me and told me how to reach Guallidurth if I was still interested in hiring an assassin ... just to keep things interesting, he said. He knew how much I'd suffer being alone in Menzoberranzan with no way home. I tried to stay and make a new start for myself, but after I was mugged in the slums multiple times and almost sold to some slavers, I just wanted to get the hell out of there.

"I found a caravan to take me to Guallidurth, and I went to House Nardoorl using Kimmuriel's name as my calling card. I explained everything to them and begged them to help me find a portal back to Morrowind … in exchange for Chizrae," he hesitantly confessed. "Instead, they summoned demons to create a portal between Guallidurth and Akavir."

"Why Akavir?" Talvalo was quick to ask.

"When they interrogated me about Chizrae and what she had been doing in my world, they asked what kind of enemies Morrowind had. I said Skyrim and Akavir. I didn't think it mattered. They chose Akavir. Something to do with similar desert regions."

"Guallidurth lies in the Calimshan region, beneath the Calim Desert," Daerazal confirmed for his brother-in-law, concerning the geography of his home world. "Kielanai!" he called over his shoulder toward the kitchen.

The bard appeared in the doorway, but kept a wary distance as she held the infant close and fed him a bottle of nutmilk.

"Do you still have Surane's book of maps? We need to locate a desert in Akavir."

Jiub sized up his former rival and boss, who was still standing over him with Daerazal's enchanted sword at his throat. Even if he could take advantage of the Drow's distraction, he knew he could never escape Talvalo.

Kielanai drew nearer to Jiub with caution. "Do you know the name of the desert?"

"_Yonaki Sabaku_ ... the Nightsong Desert."

"You helped Llothians from Guallidurth form an _alliance_ with Akavir?" Talvalo angrily accused.

"I didn't _help_ them do anything!" the battered thief shot back. "Look at me! They tortured me until I told them what they wanted to know." Jiub's red eyes widened with fear and hate. "They have whips with snake heads that sink teeth into your flesh and slice it open with each strike. The snake fangs inject a venom into the wound that hurts like the poison of a _hundred_ kwama bites. The priestesses have spells that invade your mind, so they know whether you're lying or telling the truth. And if they don't hear the truth, they cast more spells to partially heal you so you don't die so they can torture you all over again! You want proof that I'm telling the truth? Look at my back!"

Talvalo gave Daerazal a nod to call the thief's bluff.

The Drow jerked the Dunmer out of the seat, turned him around, and pulled the tail of his shirt up to his shoulders.

Jiub winced at the rough treatment, but held still for them to see the streaks of dried blood over the deep cuts and welts on his ash-blue back. "Course you probably wouldn't know anything about this kind of preferential treatment, would you, _Elderboy_ of House Velve'Xukuth," the Dunmer thief cynically added.

Kielanai's lips parted in surprise, and she looked from the thief to the former Elderboy with worry. "Snake whips? Is this what happened to you?"

Daerazal let thief go and turned away in disgusted silence.

Jiub let his shirt fall back to his waist and faced his accusers once more. "They promised they would take me home since I had been so _helpful_. I thought that meant they were going to let me go once we got to Akavir, but I was released from the cage to a chain leash to be used as a damned guide-slave. Like I would know anything about Akavir," he snarled. "At the village closest to the portal, they announced they were seeking allies to hunt the Nerevarine of Morrowind. They were given the name of a Tsaesci bounty hunter."

Rindaalyn had been silent listening to this entire puzzling conversation, but now he growled under his breath. "Who are these Llothian Drow that dare put a bounty on the Nerevarine's head? They will die in the name of Azura!"

Jiub ignored the Ashlander's outburst and continued speaking to Daerazal and Talvalo. "The Tsaesci hunter suggested they speak with the local war lords because of old resentments from when the Septim Empire set up colonies along their coast. He said the Tsaesci clans had been sending scouts for some time now to map and explore the whole continent of Tamriel. Now that they've got dark elf allies who can summon demon portals, they think the time has come for another attempted invasion … of Morrowind, half a dozen unfortified ports along our other shores, and wherever the hell they can tear open interior gates to flank the incoming Tsaesci ships."

Kielanai looked to Daerazal with alarm. "They'd be doing exactly what the Mythic Dawn tried to do with the Oblivion gates. It's going to happen all over again!"

Jiub didn't know anything about Oblivion gates, but … "With King Helseth and the Great Houses divided, Morrowind isn't strong enough to fight a full-scale Akaviri invasion. And we don't have Almalexia or any of the Tribunal to help, like the last time invaders from Akavir came ashore. Skyrim won't be of any help because they're going to have to guard their own shores."

Kielanai shook her head in disbelief. "And with the Empire already weak and still bleeding from the Oblivion Crisis, Tamriel won't stand a chance against a combined force of Drow and Tsaesci invaders."

"Don't forget the demons crafting the damned portals." Daerazal folded his arms over his chest.

"Why would the Nerevarine leave to confront a threat like that alone?" Rindaalyn asked, still puzzled. "Why wouldn't she call for an army?"

"Chizrae doesn't _have_ an army," Talvalo answered the young Ashlander. "She never did. The Blades insisted that she confront Dagoth Ur and his minions alone."

"But she didn't go to Akavir alone." The Drow approached the Dunmer thief with a menacing expression. "_You_ led them to Lord Vivec ... didn't you?"

"Armed Drow and Tsaesci units took me with them on a pirate ship to a base hidden on the coast of Solstheim. A trio of Tscaesci led by a Drow priestess named Veszcryso Aleanund," he added with clear distaste, "set sail for Vivec. I got them into the city through the sewers, but then I was held in the underworks by the Tsaesci spies, while Veszcryso went to speak with Lord Vivec himself. She told him Akavir was poised to attack Morrowind, so the Nerevarine needed his help negotiating a truce."

Talvalo kept the enchanted black blade at his side, even though he still seemed tempted to use it. "So Vivec summoned Chizrae to go with him to Akavir, but when they arrived at the ship—"

"The Tsaesci captured both of them as soon as they set foot on board," Juib confirmed. "Their spies then scouted the region for news on the Empire and planted rumours that the Nerevarine and Vivec were calling for war against the king and the Nords to quicken a civil war. Can't fight an outside force if you're too busy fighting on the inside."

"But … wouldn't these other dark elves and Tsaesci be recognized as Outlanders?" Rindaalyn asked.

The Dunmer thief shook his head. "In all your lifetime in Morrowind, being bred on that stupid prophecy circulated among the native tribes, have you ever actually _seen _the Nerevarine in person?"

The Ashlander snarled at the insult and approached the thief for the first time since his arrival. "It's not stupid! The Prophecy is already half-fulfilled in the defeat of Dagoth Ur, is it not? I have not seen the Nerevarine myself, but others have. I heard she is darker than any other of our kind. Like him." He pointed to Daerazal.

"Most of the people who revere the Nerevarine as the savior of Morrowind have never _actually seen_ her. Any dark elf with very dark skin could stand before a crowd and announce that Lord Vivec has been slain and King Helseth is next to fall. The traditional houses would rally behind her in a heartbeat and Morrowind would officially enter a civil war."

Jiub noticed for the first time how different this young man's eyes and teeth were, compared to that of a typical Dunmer. But he also immediately recognized where those features probably came from and scowled. He cast a doubtful glance toward Talvalo and Daerazal. "Are you aware of what this kid is? He's one of _them_. Those are damned Tsaesci fangs! They can shape-shift, you know. The snake-men have sorcery that allows them to take on a more human-like form."

Kielanai's brows lifted with mild surprise at this news. "Well, that might account for some of the confusion about the Tsaesci population, but no, he isn't one of them. His grandfather was."

Jiub stepped back from Rindaalyn with visible disdain, but continued with what he intended to say before the teen's snake-like features distracted him. "When Veszcryso and two of her guards left to announce that the Nerevarine was going to be holding a public rally on the steps of the Palace, I killed my guard and escaped." He moved a step closer to Daerazal and Talvalo. "I know she'll eventually hunt me down. I know too much to be allowed to live. But I came here first because she knows where you live ... and she knows Chizrae has a son."

Everyone in the room looked at the bronzed, snow-headed baby asleep in Kielanai's arms.

"Grab the kid and get the hell out of here before it's too late," Jiub warned. "And then someone needs to tell the Legion that the _real_ Nerevarine and Lord Vivec are being held prisoner in Akavir or Guallidurth before the _fake_ Nerevarine and her Drow warriors lead Morrowind into a _pointless _war of independence, leaving Tamriel wide-open for a _massive_ Tsaesci invasion that will put the ones in the history books to shame."

It was a lot for everyone to swallow as they exchanged glances of concern. "How do we know you're not lying?" Talvalo challenged. "How do we know you're not leading us into a trap as well?"

Jiub held out his scraped wrists. Bloody impressions were left by the chains that once held him. "Bind me and take me to Fort Moonmoth. Turn me in for conspiracy or something. Kill me if you prefer. I don't care. But I'm not going back into the hands of that Drow bitch ever again. I'd rather slit my own throat first."

Talvalo looked to Daerazal. "You believe him?"

The Drow gave a sober nod.

Talvalo sighed heavily and handed the enchanted spider blade back to him. "Do you think we still stand a chance of finding Chizrae alive?"

"Depends on how long she can endure what they dish out. If she's being held in Guallidurth, instead of Akavir, they'll make her suffer for spying among them and stealing that rod for the Eilistraeens. Then they'll punish her for turning against the goddess. But even after they're satisfied with revenge, they may keep her alive to bleed information for their invasion. Eventually, they _will _rid themselves of her because her existence is a viable threat to their claim on finishing the prophecy for Morrowind. The same is probably true for Vivec, although there is nothing to gain by playing the Tribunal political card here. They'll probably kill him first." He looked down at his sword and then back up at Jiub before sheathing it.

The tortured thief was relieved the Drow no longer had issues with him. He was certain the warrior now preferred to spill Llothian blood, instead.

Kielanai shifted the infant to her shoulder, careful not to disturb his sleep. "Talvalo, you should go back to Vos and get that race generation amulet. Daerazal, you should get our supplies for Akavir ready. Rindaalyn, I need you to help me pack the baby's things. Jiub, get something to eat from the kitchen and rest in one of the beds upstairs while you can. If they're coming after little Nerevar, we've got to leave as soon as possible." She headed toward the stairs. "I have an idea how we can get to Akavir without wasting any more precious time."

"I'm not going back to Akavir," Jiub protested. "No way. No how. I'll draw maps or tell you anything you want to know, but I am _not_ going back."

Kielanai paused at the bottom of the stairs, then checked with Daerazal and Talvalo. "I think he should at least speak to Surane. The Blades should be notified of the impending invasion."

"What about Veszcryso Aleanund?" the thief asked. "You can't go to Akavir yet. As we speak she's in Vivec getting ready to take on the mantle of the Nerevarine and declare war."

The bard frowned, then turned away from the stairs and passed little Nerevar into his father's arms. "On second thought, you should take him with you to Vos. Rindaalyn and I will take care of the Nerevarine's imposter." She looked over her shoulder to the Ashlander youth.

The scout gave a firm nod, more than willing to end to the fake Nerevarine's premature and deceptive call to war.

Daerazal's lips pressed together in a thin, straight line as he followed them to the door. "You should stay here to ready the supplies and help Talvalo pack for the baby when he gets back. I'll take care of Vesczcryso Aleanund."

"Daerazal, I can handle one priestess."

"She's a _Llothian_ priestess, Kielanai." He paused, letting that sink in for what it was worth. "I have no doubt you can take her, but I _want_ this kill. Let me do this one."

The bard saddened as something unspoken passed between them, but then she backed away.

Daerazal offered a curt nod of gratitude, then gestured for Rindaalyn to follow. "There a collection of teleporting books in the library we can use to get there quickly."

"Do you need me to identify her?" Jiub asked, really hoping he wasn't needed.

"I think I can spot the Llothian Drow in a Dunmer crowd," Daerazal answered over his shoulder.

"She'll be the one wearing a bad attitude like it's the latest fashion," the Altmer offered—a numb attempt at humor in spite of his drained mood. He received a rude finger from his brother-in-law before the warrior and the scout disappeared down the stairs to the lower level of the manor. Sighing, the battlemage wrapped his son securely in his robe and followed the other two elves to his enchanted books collection.

The bard looked at the empty nutmilk bottle in her hand and set it on the small table. "I'm Kielanai, by the way," she spoke to Jiub. "I'm just a bard, but I can heal some of those wounds … if you like."

The exhausted thief carefully removed his shirt and turned his back to her—the whip marks being the most painful of his injuries. "I'm truly surprised the Llothians didn't kill me. Daerazal ... he was one of them, you know."

"I know," she quietly answered. "But he knows better than anyone what it's like to betray someone and later regret it." She placed a hand to the Dunmer's back and warm healing magic tingled deep beneath his skin as the flesh began to mend. "Tell me something, though. While you were in Akavir, did you happen to come across any bridges that face only water?"

"Spirit bridges." Relieved at the removal of his pain, he turned to face her and touched his bunched shirt to the dried blood still at his temple. "They used one to take the ship to Solstheim in half the time it would have taken to sail the damn thing across the ocean. But traveling through it was a nightmare."

"How so?"

"There's a gateway in those bridges that leads to some kind of underworld guarded by shrines that house spirits. The Tsaesci captain invoked a spirit in one of the shrines, and it guided the ship to its destination."

"So, it's like a portal that swallows the whole ship?"

"Yeah. But that doesn't mean the trip was easy. We were constantly attacked by other spirits."

"But the invoked spirit took him right to where he wanted to go?"

"In the end."

Kielanai went to her travel bag and removed a book. As she flipped the pages to the map of Akavir, Jiub went to her side. "Nightsong Desert," she muttered to herself. "I don't see it on this map. Must be far inland."

"Quite a bit," he agreed remembering the long journey. "But when you reach Akavir, ask for directions to Sassubaa. That's the name of the first town we came to from the desert. Go north from there. The demons' portal from Guallidurth is a large fiery oval in some high rocks in the middle of nowhere. If you can keep from walking circles in the wrong direction, you can't miss it."

"Did you have to pass through Oblivion? Were there daedra as well as spirits?"

"We went through Oblivion to pass from Guallidurth into Akavir, and then again to pass from Akavir into Tamriel. Like I said—nightmarish. And speaking of nightmares, Guallidurth made Menzoberranzan look like a carnival. At least Menzoberranzan is a trade city, and they have a certain low-level tolerance for other races out of necessity. Guallidurth, from what I was told, has the largest Llothian population and boasts the most temples of any Drow city. They're psycho zealots for this Spider Queen goddess of theirs. If that's where they're holding Chizrae, she won't be getting out of there alive without help. I was held in the same dungeon, though, so if you get me some paper, I can draw you a layout. I can tell you where the traps are hidden, too. How's your lock-picking and trap-springing skills?"

"Not very good, I'm afraid. Are you sure you can't come with us?" Kielanai pulled out her notebook and writing supplies and passed them to him.

Jiub shook his head, but took the writing supplies to the corner desk and sat down. "I'll talk to your Blades agent, but I'm not going back to Akavir for any amount of money. There's plenty of other thieves gullible enough to tag along if the price is right and you don't tell them what they're walking into. Just don't get separated from Daerazal. He's your only shot at getting out of Guallidurth alive." The thief dipped the quill in the inkwell and met her with a sobering gaze. "I mean it."

Attention back on the paper, he started sketching his memories of First House Nordoorl's dungeon as the bard came to stand behind him and watch over his shoulder.

))((

Daerazal and Rindaalyn were carried to the city of Vivec by the appropriate book's magic, but instead of teleporting to some logical place on ground level, they landed on top of the St. Delyn canton's dome.

"Who the hell would place a recall spell up _here_?" the Drow complained.

Rindaalyn scratched his head and walked to the edge of the dome looking for a way down. He had never been to a city as big as Vivec, and to see it from this angle made it even more imposing. "Look!" He pointed to toward the Palace where people were already gathered and listening to a figure standing on the steps between the waterfalls. "We're too late!"

"Not yet we're not." Daerazal scanned the area, then crouched and jumped.

Rindaalyn gasped and almost grabbed him to prevent him from falling to his death, but then he leaned over the edge and saw that the Drow had landed on the precarious ledge below. One more hop and he landed on the flat, lower platform of the upper plaza. The scout copied his method of descent, catching up as he jumped to the arch of a bridge and then down onto the paved walkway. His legs ached from the jarring distances, but he had no chance to rest before running toward the gathering at the Palace steps and pushing his way through the crowd to keep up with Daerazal.

Up on the Palace steps, a dark elven female with midnight-colored skin beneath a black cloak and hood paced before a gathering mod. "The only way for you to take back Morrowind is to fight for it! News has come from Imperial City, has it not?" she broadcast to the onlookers in a loud, clear, but heavily accented voice. "The Empire has no Emperor! _Now_ is the time to take back this land that you love, my fellow Dunmer! The time for freedom from Imperial occupation is _now_!"

A loud cheer rose from the mob. Sneers began to pass from the local Dunmer toward the Outlanders among them, while the Outlanders of Imperial heritage began to step back with caution.

"I did not free us from Dagoth Ur's curse at Red Mountain only to continue to feed the greedy Empire our taxes, our resources, our sweat, and our blood!" the Drowess continued. "The rest of the Prophecy must now unfold! You can no longer rely upon the Tribunal to save you! I have slain the traitors to the Old Ways—all of them! And I have returned from Akavir with the force of a hundred-thousand allies among our former enemies to free us from the Legions of Cyrodiil! Will you join me in a march upon Mournhold to oust an undeserving, Imperial-brown-nosing king? Morrowind belongs to the dark elves!"

The two Drow that flanked her sides raised their arms and encouraged the mob to continue shouting praises for the return of their legendary hero.

"Stop! Don't listen to her!" Daerazal shouted as he pushed his way to the front of the crowd and drew his sword. "That woman is not the Nerevarine! She hasn't brought an army to free you! She's brought an army to enslave you!" he shouted back to the crowd as he marched up the steps to confront her.

And as the crowd murmured among themselves, Rindaalyn hurried up the steps behind him and drew his chitin axe.

Upon seeing the unexpected male Drow, Veszcryso Aleanund's eyes narrowed into ruby slits. "You publicly challenge the Nerevarine? I save you from the Blight and the Corprus monsters and this is the thanks I get?"

"_You_ are _not_ the Nerevarine!" Daerazal dared to meet the priestess's gaze. "Show them your army!" he audibly challenged. "Call the guards from House Indoril to stand here at your side!"

"My army is hidden from Cyrodiil until I order them to attack."

"Because they won't be arriving on ships from Akavir, but through _Oblivion gates_ outside of every major city." He faced the crowd. "Do you want more demon portals opening across your land, destroying your cities? The armies beyond her demon portals are meant to weaken and subdue Morrowind, so the Tsaeci of Akavir can claim Tamriel for themselves! Do you want that?"

More murmurs from the crowd as they tried to sort out what was going on …

))((

The Drowess smiled like a purring kitten and lowered her voice to speak directly to him in their native tongue. "Let me guess. Jiub escaped his bonds somehow and tattled on us. You must be Chizrae's brother. He told us about you. It's a good thing you failed at killing your baby sister, or we wouldn't have the chance to do it for you. Now _step down, male_," she ordered through clenched teeth, "or I will have you fed, piece-by-piece, to whatever creatures lurk in these waters around us."

"You're not Chizrae, and I'm not going to let you succeed at convincing these people otherwise."

"I already have. Strike me in front of them, and see what happens. You yourself will start the rebellion." She gave him another catty smile. "Last warning—step down or I will offer your traitorous heart to the Spider Queen right here in front of all these witnesses." She snapped her fingers, and the Drow warriors next to her raised their weapons.

Daerazal raised his sword for her to see the spider-shaped crosspiece and then flashed her a sinister smirk of his own. "That Spider Bitch has no power here."

))((

Rindaalyn still didn't understand who these mysterious dark elves were or where they came from, but he could tell for certain now that this imposter was not the reincarnation of General Nerevar Indoril. The young Ashlander suddenly grabbed Veszcryso's wrist and held her hand high for everyone to see. "This woman is not the Nerevarine! Where is her Moon-and-Star?"

Veszcryso snarled and tried to free herself from his grip. "Unhand me, you filthy savage, or you're going to have one less hand to worry about."

Rindaalyn grinned, displaying his unusual teeth. "You don't have it because you don't know what I'm talking about." He faced his fellow Dunmer in the crowd below. "As the Prophecy foretold, only the true incarnate of Nerevar, blessed by Azura herself, can wear the Moon-and-Star ring!"

Everyone in the crowd whispered among themselves. Anger started to rise among the Dunmer. The guards patrolling the city began to give each other questioning expressions. They didn't dare arrest the Nerevarine after the Prophecy was proved true.

The Drow priestess jerked her hand back and slapped Rindaalyn hard across the face for his public humiliation of her, but then she also drew her snake whip from beneath her cloak and slashed him across the chest and arms with it.

The scout gasped as snake fangs sank deep beneath his shirt and tore across both fabric and flesh. Magical pain shocked through his muscles and joints like a seizure, bringing him to his knees, making him drop his axe.

))((

The guards drew their weapons and tried to control the astonished crowd, moving them back a safe distance from the sudden skirmish while still debating appropriate action regarding the female dark elf's claim.

Daerazal managed to get one strike into the priestess's back before he was intercepted by one of her guards. But as he worked Spider Bite to keep the equally talented blade of the other Drow warrior at bay, Veszcryso cracked her snake whip across his face and neck. The sting was every bit as excruciating as he remembered it. Bloodlust kicked in demanding revenge for years of abuse at the hands of his mother and sisters, and Daerazal fought shocks of magic pulsing through his nervous system to drive the other warrior out of his way for another opening at the priestess.

The priestess attempted to cast a spell at him, but nothing came of it. Lloth had no reach into this world to hear the prayers of her devoted.

The blade swirled in Daerazal's hands like a black circle spinning from one side of his opponent to the other, and yet the other Drow met his strikes and recoiled each and every time. Finally, Daerazal kicked his opponent back a step and risked releasing the spinning sword to catch it in his other hand, then slashed it horizontally into the Llothian warrior's throat, nearly beheading him. Face and torso splattered in the blood of his own kin, he leaped over the corpse toward the priestess.

))((

Veszcryso had been using her whip to lash out at anyone that came within striking distance, but continued ripping lashes across the Dunmer teen at her feet. He had ruined her masquerade. Grasping a handful of long, copper hair, she slammed his face into the stone wall, then followed it with another whiplash to his skull.

Rindaalyn felt as if he was going to vomit. Pain shocked through his brain nearly knocking him unconscious. His nerves were shot, so he was powerless to twist out of the way. Blood pulsed in his temples and his vision began to darken. He knew he was going to die if he was struck one more time. She raised the whip, but then something distracted the woman from tearing into his flesh again.

"_Lu'oh kuuv dos zotreth natha yathrin!_" she hissed at Daerazal and cracked the whip to keep him away.

"_F'sarn naut aluin ulu zotreth dos; F'sarn aluin ulu elgg dos!_" Daerazal angrily threatened in return. "_Vel'klar's Chizrae_?" he demanded.

Rindaalyn stretched his fingers toward his axe and forced them to grab the leather-wrapped handle. Pushing himself onto his knees, he tried to focus on what was happening.

"_Chizrae's shlu'ta rot wun l' ragrubahen d' Guallidurth! Il zhah natha og'elend ulu l' Orbb Valsharess, fridj saph dos!_" Veszrcryso lunged forward to whip the snakes across his shoulders and chest.

Only half of the snakes made contact. The other half fell to the ground writhing and attempting to regenerate their bodies. Behind her, Rindaalyn had managed to catch one of the snake heads on the nasty weapon to sever as many of the long strands as he could with his axe. Lingering spasms still twitched through his muscles, but the young scout stood to reach his next intended target—the back of the priestess's head. However, in his peripheral vision, he saw that the other Drow warrior had just finished his battle with a couple of the Indoril guards and was moving toward him. Rindaalyn spun right and threw his axe. The honed edge cleaved the dark warrior's skull just above his right eye. The Ashlander didn't bother to retrieve his weapon yet. Instead, he drew his chitin bow and an arrow fletched with cliff racer feathers. "For the _real_ Nerevarine," he whispered as he took aim.

))((

Daerazal gritted his teeth and panted through his pain before barreling through the reach of the remaining snake heads to collide with the priestess. Using one hand to rip the hood from her head, he exposed her sensitive eyes to the full light of day.

The blinded Drow, unaccustomed to the sun, screeched with fury. Veszcryso reached toward his shirt collar and jerked him closer, rather than pushing him away. "You have not won! Even if you kill me, Chizrae is in House Nardoorl now, and she will pay for her crimes against Lloth! As will you when you attempt to free her!"

Daerazal drove Spider Bite through her stomach, giving it that extra little twist of hatred to spill more blood at the same time that a sharp arrowhead suddenly burst through her forehead. Blood trickled from the wound into her eyes and fell from her lips. The snake whip's remaining cords instantly whirled and grasped his torso like a giant hand, sinking their fangs into his back and thigh before both of the Drow fell to the ground. The female dark elf's head fell to one side with a blank stare.

As the snakes loosened their grip on Daerazal, he grimaced at the lingering pain, but grasped her cloak to examine it. _Not a piwafwi ..._ He looked at the blade of the Drow warrior he had fought. _Katana ..._ The Tsaesci had supplied the Drow for this excursion because sunlight would have melted Drow-made fraerzress enchantments and equipment like butter. Did that mean the Guallidurth portals would open to launch an attack during the day? Or would they stick to their usual night raid tactics? Spotting a familiar charm around the Drowess's neck, he jerked it free from the chain to reclaim it. "Chizrae's translation amulet."

When he looked up again, Rindaalyn had sunk back to his knees in pain and exhaustion. Most of the blood the kid was wearing was his own.

Daerazal rose to his feet and sheathed his sword. Then, he went to the Dunmer's side and helped him stand. "You okay?"

"I think you'd better tell me what the hell is going on here." Rindaalyn looked all the worse for wear as he slung his bow onto his back and shuffled to the dead guard's body to reclaim his axe. "Where is this place you come from, and what are you doing in Morrowind?"

Grinding one of the writhing snake heads under the heel of his boot, the Drow relished the crunch and channeled it to soothe his fried nerves. "It's a long walk back to Seyda Neen through Ebonheart from here. I'll explain along the way."

Pressing through the stunned crowd, the two dark elves left the city guards to clean up their mess. House Indoril wasn't going to complain if someone else exposed and killed a false Nerevarine. Behind them, the remains of the Llothian whip faded back to the domain of the chaotic goddess who created it.

))((

Kielanai and Jiub set the last of the packed bags in the front entrance when teleportation magic split the air in front of them, announcing Talvalo's return home from Vos.

The Altmer had situated his son within his robe in a manner that tied the sleeves around his neck and shoulder like a sling. The baby was wide awake, but was getting cranky after spending all day helping his dad run errands. The battlemage smiled and held up his purchase for Kielanai to see. "It was rather expensive, so I only had enough septims for one."

"One will do." She accepted it and the velveteen pouch of charms enchanted with the various racial illusions.

"So do you intend to tell me what this master plan of yours is, or shall I guess?" He headed past her toward the stairs.

"All the baby stuff is down here now, and I'll explain once I've spoken with Surane."

He stopped and returned to her. "Even the diapers? You didn't pack them, did you? I need one."

"Talvalo, you can't travel with a baby without packing diapers. I'm not a mother, but give me a little credit for being logical." She reached into a bag and tossed a white cloth to him.

He easily caught it. "This plan doesn't have anything to do with that spirit bridge does it? Because you're not talking me into screwing around with something like that."

"I'll talk you into whatever I please," she answered with a tart smile.

Just then, the front door to the entrance hall opened and a very haphazard, bloody-looking pair of dark elves entered.

Kielanai gasped at the sight of them. "Oh my lords! You were supposed to be fighting a Drow priestess, not a dragon."

"Same difference," Daerazal muttered, fatigued.

"Well, I see that you found Veszcryso," Jiub guessed by the horrific gashes across their faces and tattered clothing.

"She's dead, but we couldn't bring her down without causing a scene. Rumors about the Nerevarine killing Vivec and calling for war will probably fly out of those cantons like a bunch of cliff racers. I just hope they consider Rindaalyn's reminder about the Moon-and-Star ring. Only the Nerevarine can wear it, and only a true Ashlander would have thought of that." He gave the youth's shoulder a pat of gratitude, then limped past them into the living area.

Kielanai looked over their battle-weary conditions and wrung her hands before trailing after him. "I should have gone. I could have healed—"

"_No_." Daerazal firmly cut her off. "I mean ... no," he corrected his tone, then headed for the bar to get something to drink.

The bard turned to Rindaalyn and touched his face with some restorative magic. "That was a smart thing to do, thinking of the Moon-and-Star to call her bluff."

He nodded, but seemed disappointed. "Daerazal told me ... what the Nerevarine is. That she is not really the reincarnation of Nerevar Indoril."

"Oh, but she is," Kielanai softly assured him. "She truly can wear the Moon-and-Star. So, that means _whoever_ she is, she has Azura's blessing. Right? She still helped free Morrowind from the plague of Dagoth Ur. And she still needs our help now in return." The bard could see that the youth was going to need time to absorb the truth, just like she did. "Can I get you anything to ease the pain?"

"I just need some water ... and to return this." He placed Talvalo's wolf charm in the Altmer's hand, then shuffled off toward the kitchen.

Leaving Talvalo's side, she headed out to the deck to check on Daerazal and found him leaning on the rail with a bottle of ale. "How much did you tell Rindaalyn?" she asked in low tones.

"Only what he needed to know about the Blades putting Chiz up to it and where we came from. I warned him about Talvalo's little problem as well, but he seemed happy about that, rather than being wary. Don't be surprised if he tries to trick Talvalo into thinking it's an early full moon, or something, just to see him turn." He took a sip of his drink and gazed at the calm of the moon garden as the sun set behind the cypress trees. "Veszcryso confirmed that Chizrae's in the dungeon in Guallidurth."

"That's what Jiub fears. He drew me a map of their traps and showed me how to spring the basic ones."

"He's being very helpful now," the Drow sardonically commented and took another sip. "If Chiz had thrown his ass into Guallidurth before she hired him as her security guard, none of this might have happened."

"I heard that," Jiub called from the bar near the open door, gave the warrior a dirty glance, then returned to Talvalo.

Kielanai smiled and gently touched her fingertips to Daerazal's jaw to heal the cuts across his cheek and nose. "Should we leave tonight, or tomorrow morning?"

The rogue warrior closed his eyes, accepting the comforting warmth within the wounds. "Tonight. Drow travel best on the surface in the dark. If they intend to take the baby, they will come at night." Setting his bottle on the rail, he straightened and removed his shirt- a silent request for her to take care of some of the slashes on his chest, neck, arms, and back.

Kielanai grimaced at the punishment he had taken from what should have been a simple confrontation and continued to cast her healing magic.

Elbows on the rail, he winced at the more tender places she touched and drank his ale to distract himself. "I don't need a coda-blossom lantern for this one, do I?"

The bard sadly shook her head. "No." When she finished, she leaned her elbows on the rail copying his relaxed posture. "Better?"

"Better." He was silent for a long moment as he held her gaze.

Kielanai had no idea what kinds of thoughts were running through his mind after something like that, but she was sure it had to do with bitter memories of snake-whips and insanely hateful priestesses.

"I should wash up and change before we leave." Taking his bottle of ale, he turned toward the door, but then paused, turned back, and leaned down to give her forehead a soft kiss. "Thank you."

The stunned bard straightened and watched him walk back into the manor house, but then rested her chin in her hand and smiled to herself.

))((

That night, the group used the teleporting book to travel to Balmora, where Talvalo asked an Imperial priest friend to look after his manor, prize horses, and wolf. The battlemage reluctantly gave up the return teleport key to his home, then everyone dispersed among the handful of inns in the city to seek out enough rooms for an overnight stay.

The evening of the following day, Surane Leoriane answered the knock on her door in Caldera and found a group of elves gathered beyond it. "My goodness. I had no idea there were this many people going with you to Akavir. I don't even know if I have room for everyone to come inside." She gestured in invitation all the same.

Kielanai smiled in response, but remained outside. "Would you be willing to come to Cyrodiil with us?"

The mage blinked in surprise. "You mean_ now_?"

"I'm afraid we have no choice but to leave for Akavir as soon as possible."

"I'm afraid I can't go with you to Akavir, my dear."

"I know, but you wanted to see my bridge and how it worked. So, I'd like you to meet a new friend of mine." The bard patted the Dunmer thief on the back. "Jiub has actually been through a spirit bridge journey. He's going to help us tweak mine to make it work. But ... we need a mage."

Surane didn't know whether to be happy, excited, or thrilled. Thrilled won out. "Wait right there! I'll grab the bamboo scroll!"

Behind Kielanai, Talvalo and Daerazal exchanged very unhappy glances. "You said this wasn't about the bridge," the battlemage complained.

"I said I'd explain once I've spoken with Surane."

"And?" the Drow prompted.

"Well, I haven't said anything more than hello to her yet, have I?"

Talvalo smacked the back of Jiub's bald head.

"Ow!" The thief winced at the unexpected hit and then glared over his shoulder at the battlemage. "What was that for?"

"For telling her you knew something about that bridge," the Altmer answered with a frown.

When Surane had packed a small bag of travel supplies, she locked her door and followed the group of elves toward the Caldera Mages Guild. "What a sweet baby." She tapped the balled fist the baby boy was suckling at Talvalo's shoulder. "You're not taking _him_ to Akavir are you?"

"I'm leaving him with my sister in Imperial City," the battlemage answered.

"Awww. May I?" The mage grinned and reached for him.

"Be my guest."

Surane snuggled the baby close for a moment, and then held him up to get a good look at his bronzed skin, downy white hair, and chubby cheeks. "Oh my. What unusual eyes." But then she blinked and took a look at the even more unusual copper-haired, blue-gray youth with snake-like features who walked alongside them.

"No relation," Rindaalyn answered ... as if that was even an option.


	20. Chapter 20: Cyrodiil to Nowhere

Chapter 20: From Cyrodiil to Nowhere

The Caldera Mages Guild transported the entire group to Cheydinhal, but because of the dinner hour and limited space in Kielanai's little tent, they decided to stay the night there and set out for Imperial City the next morning.

No harm came to the infant because he had a whole team of armed guardians willing to protect him. During the long walk, Kielanai explained some of Jiub's experiences in Akavir to Surane. However, she focused on the desires of the Tsaesci to invade Morrowind, leaving out the parts about the Drow. The rest of the day, the inquisitive mage grilled the Dunmer thief with question after question about what he saw there, but he insisted that most of the time he was locked away or under guard.

Rindaalyn was still thinking deeply about the previous conversation on the walk back from Vivec. He was still trying to figure out how the Nerevarine could come from another world and still be the Nerevarine. He listened quietly to the others conversing about the Tsaesci and tried to imagine what his grandfather must have been like. It wasn't the first time he wondered. He was probably one of those scouts sent to gather information on Morrowind for a future invasion. But why had he chosen to turn his back on his own people for a Dunmer? Or had he? Maybe he was still spying for them … somewhere.

))((

It was the middle of the night when they finally arrived at the gates of the Imperial City, so it was morning again before they could seek out the home of Talvalo's sister. But when he finally came to the familiar front door of a townhouse in the Elven Gardens District, elegantly draped in blue and purple morning glory vines, he didn't reach for the decorative knocker.

Kielanai looked at her friend's face to read his hesitation.

"I haven't been home since the death of my father." It was clear that the reason for his departure weighed heavily on him once more. "And my family never truly liked Chizrae. And they still think I'm an irresponsible waste of time, so they'll probably suspect I'm trying to skip out of my responsibility. Asking my sister to look after my son isn't going to win me any favors. I just hope she's reasonable enough to recognize that none of this is his fault. I hope she will give him the same attention and care that she gives her own children."

"Should we stay and go in with you?"

"No. Thank you, but I need to do this on my own."

The bard nodded. "We'll meet you at Gwenyth's cottage, then." She gave Talvalo a supportive hug and kissed the soft white fuzz on the baby boy's head. She'd grown quite attached to him in only a few days time, but she was surprised when Daerazal silently copied her gesture toward the baby. It was the first time she had seen the Drow interact with his nephew in any way. Considering the society he came from, she supposed he felt as uncomfortable about the baby as he did about having friends. Smiling at the warrior's small attempt to break the mold, Kielanai left Talvalo to deal with his estranged family in his own way and led the rest of the party toward the center of the wheel-shaped city.

"Is this where the Emperor lives?" Rindaalyn asked, gazing up at the tall buildings and the even taller spire of White Gold Tower.

"It's where the Elder Council governs until a new Emperor is decided." Kielanai entered the gates of the innermost walls and walked the wide girth of the Imperial Palace to find the entrance.

"Why don't they just disband, now that they have no leader?"

"Because then the Empire would fall apart."

"Ashlanders don't need an Empire," he muttered in return.

The bard became annoyed. "Then why are we even here?"

"So Daerazal can get his sister back."

"_And_ so the Ashlanders can have their Nerevarine back, _and_ so that we can ask the Elder Council—the Empire—to guard Morrowind against a possible invasion from Akavir," she testily reminded him.

"Daerazal's sister is not the Nerevarine. She is tainted with Imperial lies," the youth responded with a disappointed and somewhat bitter tone.

Surane cast Kielanai an unhappy glance, but then picked up his complaint. "Rindaalyn, please remember that the Nerevarine had to pass the tests of your own wise women and chieftains. They agreed in unison that Chizrae _is_ the Nerevarine. So did Azura. Are they also tainted with Imperial lies?"

The youth adjusted his bow and quiver on his back as they walked. "They were tricked."

"Azura wouldn't have been tricked. She's a Daedric Prince. She's the one that promised to bring Nerevar back."

"Azura was impatient to punish the pretenders of the Tribunal. They broke their vow to her and Nerevar, stabbed him in the back, and lied about being gods. That is why she allowed Chizrae to fulfill Nerevar's prophecy. But Chizrae is not General Nerevar Indoril."

"For someone raised in the dirt, you sure know your lore," Jiub gruffed with a hint of sarcasm.

"_True_ Dunmer never forget the Old Ways," the Ashlander cast the thief a curt side glance. "They are passed on to us directly, rather than being preached in false temples or copied in false books."

Surane leaned close to Kielanai's ear and whispered. "Common Ashlanders weren't supposed to know about Imperial meddling in the Prophecy. What have you been telling the lad?"

Kielanai shook her head as if to silence her companions. "Alright, then, what do you think Nerevar would do today if he knew Morrowind was about to be invaded by Akavir?" she asked of Rin.

"Nerevar made a pledge to Azura on the Moon-and-Star to keep the traditions of the spirits and the land. But the Empire tells us to worship Outlander gods, makes us follow their laws, and ridicules our traditions. We did not invite the Empire to set up forts in our hills, and we did not give it permission to carve up our land for ebony and glass. It leaves us with only blighted territories to make our camps. Imperialist pigs should be content to stay in Cyrodiil," he snidely commented. "If the true Nerevarine had answered the call to Tsaesci, he would _direct_ them to the border of Cyrodiil."

The bard pressed her lips together in a thin, straight line. That was the final straw. "_Baka na otokonoko!_ Come with me!" Though she was nearly at the Palace doors, Kielanai took the Ashlander's wrist and headed right back down the steps, pulling him with her toward the broken, but guarded, gates to the Temple District.

The corner of Daerazal's mouth quirked in amusement. Pushing his Dwemer shades a little further up on the bridge of his nose, he leaned closer to Jiub. "He's done it now. She's been known to swing shovels when she uses those words."

Jiub smirked at the other dark elf's comment, and both of them picked up their pace to follow.

Kielanai marched the youth past the torn roads, fallen columns, and damaged buildings. "_This_ is what happened to Cyrodiil when Mehrunes Dagon opened Oblivion portals for a daedra invasion. _This_ is what's going to happen to Morrowind, and the rest of Tamriel, if your Old Ways take priority to unification." She pushed open the doors of the crumbled Temple, pulled him in front of her, and clamped her hands down on his shoulders as she marched him toward the enormous stone dragon crying out to the open sky in the center of it all. "And _this_ is Martin Septim, the emperor who sacrificed himself to banish Mehrunes Dagon to prevent this kind of destruction from happening ever again."

Rindaalyn gazed up at the dragon and moved toward it in awe.

Jiub let out a low whistle and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he followed. "If this is Martin Septim, how big was Mehrunes Dagon?"

Kielanai softened her tone and placed a hand on the teen's shoulder. "Rindaalyn, Cyrodiil was wrong to invade Morrowind the way that it did. It took an Oblivion invasion of my own province to make me realize that. But Tamriel's strength lies in all of us learning to work together, and right now we need each other." Kielanai walked past him and placed a hand on the dragon's thigh. "Martin actually offered to help us find the Nerevarine when the Oblivion Crisis ended, if only he had lived long enough to do so." The bard cast a stern scowl toward the Ashlander youth. "You didn't know him. But he was my friend, and I won't listen to you speak so disrespectfully after he gave his life for you. You're repeating second-hand hatred instead of thinking for yourself when you say such things."

Rindaalyn quieted under her scolding and compared the dragon's enormous talons to his own hands.

Speechless at the sheer size of the avatar of Akatosh, Surane also stepped forward to admire the incredible monument to the last of the last heir of the Septim Dynasty.

Kielanai thought the Blades agent looked as if she might cry. The bard lowered her gaze to the basin that once held the Dragon Fires. It was strange to think that after everything they went through, the Amulet of Kings might never have been meant to relight those flames. Rubbing her arms as if touched by an uneasy chill, she left the three visitors from Vvardenfell and returned to Daerazal's side. "Something just occurred to me that makes me very uncomfortable."

Leaning against the wall, thumbs hooked in silver chains at his belt, he casually waited to hear it.

"Martin was the key to stopping the invasion because the Amulet of Kings was able to call Akatosh to banish Mehrunes Dagon. We don't have another Amulet of Kings. Even if we find Chizrae, we have no way of stopping this invasion short of brute military defense."

The dark knight scratched lightly at his nose. After a moment, he came up with the only obvious answer. "We'll have to trap the Llothians on the other side of the gate in Guallidurth before they can open the gates from Akavir to Morrowind. And then we'll have to destroy their gate."

"But they could just make another one ... couldn't they?"

"Not if we destroy whatever they used to make it."

Kielanai grasped her long hair in one hand and pulled it over the front of her shoulder to get it off of her neck while she fanned herself lightly in the heat of the midday sun. She tried to meet his gaze, but saw only her own reflection in the dark, mirrored lenses. She considered the nature of the Oblivion gates that opened in Cyrodiil. "A sigil stone?"

The Drow gave a small nod. "Or its equivalent. It might not be a permanent fix because as long as Chizrae lives, they will seek revenge. But it will take a while to replace that kind of powerful magic."

The bard sighed unhappily. "Just when I thought I would never have to go into one of those infernal Oblivion gates again. Let's go talk to High Chancellor Ocato about this, then head on into Weye for some lunch at the Wawnet Inn."

The dark warrior gave another nod and waited patiently for her to round up their party once more.

Kielanai led her travel companions back to the Imperial Palace and found the High Chancellor in the Elder Council's meeting hall among other dignitaries of state who were milling about taking a break from official business.

"Ah! Welcome back, Champion. How goes it?" Ocato greeted her.

Kielanai was mildly embarrassed at the title. "Not so good, I'm afraid." She explained the situation developing in Morrowind, again focusing on only the Tsaesci part of the problem. Surane introduced herself as a member of the Blades in Caldera and explained her aid in helping them prepare for the journey to Akavir. Jiub retold what he knew about a Tsaesci spy luring Vivec and Chizrae into a trap. And Rindaalyn gave an account of a mysterious female dark elf who called herself the Nerevarine and said she killed Lord Vivec in order to instigate a rebellion. The Ashlander managed to withhold his criticism of the Empire as he spoke ... at least not for now.

The High Chancellor's expression was very grim by the time they finished their reports. "One Oblivion Crisis was one too many. To hear that the Tsaesci have found a way to summon Oblivion gates like the Mythic Dawn is disheartening indeed. Please don't let word of this threat spread to the streets. I'll contact Caius Cosades and put him back on the matter with some extra troops in Vvardenfell's major cities. He can handle sending troops to the other places that need them. I wish that I could help you in regards for the Nerevarine, but ... if the Empire were to be implicated in any way ..."

"We've discussed that," Surane inserted with a nod. "They're to act on their own, not as agents of the Empire. I've given them a one way ticket home if they need it."

"Very good," Ocato responded with concern. "I do wish you luck, though. And please report back to us when you return. There may be a reward in it for you if this mess is averted."

"Before we go, I was wondering," Kielanai added, "if I could possibly see my father's records with the Blades in the archives."

"What archives?"

Kielani blinked at the unexpected dead end.

The elf's features drew into an expression that seemed apologetic and confused at the same time. "I'm afraid the Blades affairs are so top secret that often Jauffre and Uriel were the only two people who knew what our agents were doing. And right now, the Blades are having to reorganize just like the Elder Council. If you're wanting to dig into past records, I'd recommend that you wait until things are a bit more settled. Keeping the Tsaesci out of Morrowind is the more immediate priority."

"Of course. Thank you, Sir." She bowed slightly and turned away, suddenly uncomfortable about pursuing it further.

"Oh, by the way, your dragon armor is waiting for you in the armory. You can just walk in and pick it up. Caius has brought Jauffre's armor from Cloud Ruler Temple, so they are together in there. Good luck trying to locate the Nerevarine and safe return," he added in light of their grave, but officially secret, endeavor.

Kielanai gave another polite semi-bow to excuse herself and her party, then led them out of the Palace toward the Prison District. "He didn't know about the archives," she muttered under her breath with unhappy suspicion. But Caius was right. Now was not the time to try to weed the Elder Council for conspirators. It was the only true power toward Tamriel's defense.

In the armory, the bard found the golden armor made in honor of her service to the Emperor. She ran a hand over the exquisite design, realizing there were magical enchantments on each piece—Imperial designs that would make it impossible to wear in Akavir. Jauffre's Blades armor was in the sack next to it. Sighing in disappointment at the uselessness of such fine equipment, the bard quietly tucked the golden armor into the sack with Jauffre's.

In Weye, back in the alchemist's old cottage, everyone was glad to sit down and rest. Kielanai went outside to the garden to see if there was anything worth harvesting for lunch, and a few minutes later, Surane volunteered to take the task. The bard excused herself to the inn across the street to earn some tips with her tales about Morrowind. Outside of the giant mushroom towers and strange animals, however, she realized there was very little news she could publicly share. She was grateful when Daerazal showed up to interrupt the uncomfortable pauses in her presentation.

"Talvalo's back," he informed her near the bar. "His sister agreed to take the baby, but he's a little on the low end, if you know what I mean. You might need to think of some way to entertain him instead of this lot." He fingered a small bowl of candies on the counter and tasted one. Pleasantly surprised at the chewy sweetness, he reached for another.

She pulled the bowl away. "You're supposed to pay for them first."

"What are they?" He ignored her warning and took another.

"Chewy toffees." She pulled the bowl away again. "Narussa, could I have a handful of these, please?" she called to owner of the establishment. "Just take it out of my tips because _someone_ can't keep his sticky fingers out of them."

The high elf coming to the bar laughed and took the bowl to measure out a portion onto some waxed paper. "You're lucky I didn't see it, then. How long will you be staying this time? I think someone was looking at your home recently, speculating on whether it was for sale."

The bard was troubled to hear this unexpected news. "If I let it go, would you be willing to handle the transaction for me? I'm afraid I have another long journey ahead of me. I don't know when I'll be coming back … or if I'll ever need to live in Gwenyth's cottage again."

"Going back to Morrowind?"

"Akavir."

Narussa's expression changed as she set the paper-wrapped toffees on the counter in front of the dark warrior and passed the golden bard the remainder of her earnings in tips. "Why on earth would you want to go there? Those snake people will eat you alive."

Kielanai nodded in sober agreement with that possibility. "I guess you could say my family has unfinished business there." She straightened and tapped the bar. "See if you can get about 10,000 septims for the home. It's in a good location with a good plot of land. It's weather-tight and fully furnished. I'll share half for your trouble."

The innkeeper was stunned. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure. I hope to see you again someday, Narussa." She leaned across the counter to hug her.

"Take care, Kielanai." The other elf saddened to see her depart on such a strange note.

The bard smiled, took one last look at the tavern, then left with the Drow.

"That sounded rather final," he noted as they walked together across the road.

"Gwenyth's home is going to waste. The garden needs someone more present than me to take better care of it. I need to let it go if I ever hope to move on."

The Drow offered the opened package of toffees he'd already broke into. "And that bit about your family business?"

"Well, that's what it comes down to, doesn't it? I have to finish what they started." She accepted one of the candies. "So, how should we cheer Talvalo?" she purposefully changed the topic. "I could tell him a story. He likes adventure stories."

"He'll have adventure soon enough. I think you should sing."

The bard looked to him with a quirked brow. "You'll get no free ale out of it this time."

"I already got some free toffees." He gave the candies in the paper a rattle. The dark elf allowed himself a smirk at her reaction.

Wearing an expression of mild disgust, the gold elf headed up the steps to cottage door and let him in to rejoin their friends, letting the door close softly behind them.

))((

The journey back to the Gold Coast went more quickly than the journey to Morrowind. Maybe it was because the road seemed more familiar to the bard and she was glad to be back in her own environment. Or maybe it was because Daerazal forbid her to go tavern-hopping and friend-stopping along the way this time. Kielanai's old, gray-and-white nag, Mirabel, was happily keeping company with the white horses in the stables outside of the port city's walls. The bard gave the horse's neck a big hug, but chose to leave her there for now. Mirabel was in good company, and she was safe.

Kielanai paid Elaren a visit next to check on her "kitten". The Altmer mage greeted her warmly and welcomed the weary travelers into his manor without question. The bard was surprised at how much the baby cougar had grown in such a short time, but then realized her absence hadn't really been short at all. Summer was already waning.

"I have to go away again," she told him after the initial greetings and news. "All this time I've been gone, we have yet to set foot in Akavir. If you're unable to care for my animals, I understand. You have my permission to find them good homes."

The mage nodded with concern. "Well, Mirabel is no problem at all. This one, however ... I guess I'm just more suited to domesticated cats, you know?"

"Then you need to contact an Altmer named Alderan Silverleaf. He often leaves for hunting in the forests south of Weye and west of Chorrol, but he lives here in town. He's the hunter who initially gave Mouzer to Gwenyth. He's actually more of a ranger, so I know he'll take good care of him and train him." She scratched the belly of the wildcat rolling playfully on the floor. "When I come back, gods willing, I'll take Mouzer back to Kojima with me." She smiled, stood, and wrote the elven ranger's name on a page in her notebook, then tore it out for him. "I'll pay him well with the money from Gwenyth's house. And, of course, there's a portion in it for you for helping to care for Mirabel."

"You're selling the cottage in Weye?" Elaren was saddened at the news. "That's like having to say goodbye all over again."

"Yes ... it is," the bard agreed. "But I know Gwenyth would want me to be practical about it."

The mage chuckled. "Yes, you're probably right. Although she'd give you a good ear chewing for letting her garden go to weed first."

Kielanai laughed with him. "You're probably right."

"Well, your home on Kojima is in good repair. Your house-sitter friend is away on an important quest at the moment, but I have your key, if you'd like it back." He went to a small chest on his bookshelf and retrieved the item, passing it into her hands. "You can bring it back to me or leave it in the crates in the stables, and I'll look for it there."

The bard nodded, grateful for his assistance.

"Shall I cast some water walking magic to aid your return?" he offered.

"That won't be necessary, but thank you. I have two other mages traveling with me now." She gestured to Talvalo and Surane. Both nodded politely at the introduction.

"Very well." The Atlmer mage gave the bard a warm hug, as the innkeeper had. "I feel even more uncertain about this departure than the last one, but ... safe return to all of you."

"Thank you, Elaren." The bard pulled away, offered a reassuring smile, then led her group out of his manor to follow the winding cobbled streets of Anvil toward the docks. There, Surane cast water walking spells on all of them, including the magic-and-water-wary Drow, and the party crossed the surface of the sea on their final trek back to Akaviri Kojima.

"You know, something's just occurred to me," Talvalo spoke. "Why didn't you just ask _me_ to work on your bridge? No offense, Surane."

The Caldera mage smiled in amusement at his attempt to end his complaint with a polite nod. "None taken, I assure you."

"You said you wanted nothing to do with it, and I'm not _letting_ you work on my bridge," Kielanai bluntly answered. "You'd blow it up. Besides, she's the one with the bamboo scroll and the dragon's tooth."

The battlemage drew an indignant expression at the bard's assumption. "Well, considering that you basically tricked us into using it, I have half a mind to blow it to splinters anyway. Nobody wants to use that bridge except you. It's too much of a wild card. A ship is still the safer bet."

The bard grinned and continued walking ahead of them as her island home came into view. "I agree. That's why we're taking my ship."

Talvalo cleaned his ear with a finger as if he heard incorrectly. "Your what?"

"My ship."

"You have a ship?" Rindaalyn asked, surprised.

"What kind of skooma have you been snuffing? You don't have a … ship." The battlemage's words fell away as the large galleon came into view at the dock. "Good gods, woman. Where did you get that?"

"It's a pirate ship, stolen by the Tsaesci to blend among our fleets—stolen back by me. She is now the _Crystal Maiden_," she informed him as she strode ashore. "The bridge is around the back of that small house," she told Surane. "You can all go ahead. I'll be with you in a few minutes."

The Blades mage nodded and eagerly rounded the corner of the small Akaviri-style farmhouse. Everyone else followed with notably less enthusiasm, but Talvalo continued to glance over his shoulder at the large, sea-faring vessel.

Kielanai left the group and unlocked the front door to her home. Stepping inside, she removed her boots before crossing the soft, straw tatami to the trunk where she kept her sigil stone. Unlocking the chest, she smiled at the trust she had placed in her house-sitting friend. The stone she had stolen from the Oblivion gate outside of Kvatch was still here. Reclaiming the large, black sphere, she shut the trunk and carried the stone to the back door. Sliding the storm-door open, she gestured for Jiub to come take it. "Give this to Surane. I think she'll need it to unlock the portal. By the way, I wondering. If these spirit bridges act like teleports, why haven't the Tsaesci used them to invade before now?"

The thief accepted the stone and was surprised at how its wicked, red glow thrummed with raw magical energy. "I think they only go from one bridge to another. They'd need a lot more bridges."

"You said it would take us exactly where we want to go."

"I also told you that once you arrived, you'd have to ask directions. A ship's not going to land in the middle of a desert, sweetheart." The gruff thief turned and took the sigil stone to the bridge.

"Sweetheart ..." Kielanai grumbled and slid the door shut. She frowned at the discouraging news, but then sighed at her misunderstanding. At least her plan was still doable. There had to be another bridge connected to this one somewhere in Akavir. That's what mattered.

Heading to the desk in the front _mise, _she seated herself on the large cushion, and drew out a piece of parchment and a calligraphy brush to pen a quick letter to her house-sitting friend. She explained the nature of the bridge and warned that it should be guarded or destroyed, giving permission for the latter if necessary. When she finished, she rolled the scroll, sealed it, and placed it in the center of the reed mat on the desk where it could be easily found. Then, she stood, returned to the entrance, and slipped back into her boots. Grabbing her travel gear once more, she exited her home and ran up the path to the red-tiled estate in the central part of the island.

Unlocking the ornate, wooden storm-doors, she entered beneath the blue, dragon-painted ceiling and mounted katanas once more. Kielanai removed her boots and placed them in the _getabako _near the front door. Then she padded silently across the tatami and blue marble floor toward the main hall's right corner. Sliding open one of the paper-thin _fusuma_, she stepped inside the partitioned area, and slid it shut behind her. Pausing for a moment to gather her thoughts, she opened the sack she carried to remove all the armor.

Dressing in her new, golden, dragon armor, she pulled her long, silver hair out of the neck of the enchanted cuirass and took Jauffre's items to the display cases and shelves that had sat empty for so long. When she was satisfied with their placement under the samurai banner on the wall, she padded to the shrine at the back and knelt on the _zabuton_ to light a stick of incense. Then, she bowed her head.

"_Okaasan_," she spoke to the urn on the altar's shelf. "I have returned and brought you a guardian ... and a friend. Jauffre was slain at the Battle for Bruma helping defend against a daedric invasion. He was a good man, and I think he knew my father. May his spirit watch over this place to give you, and those who live here, peace." Her aqua eyes opened and focused on the small painting of the Breton woman who had given her a second home. "I have to go to Akavir now. I have to finish what my family could not. I left Narussa in charge of selling the cottage because neither of us can use it any longer. Please understand."

She gave a single clap to draw the attention of the other spirits that haunted her memories in this grand place, then she drew _Itai Kokoro_ and set it on the floor before her as she bowed in deep respect to its previous owner ... whether father, uncle, or grandfather. "I will finish the task of the Kawauta clan. I will stop the snake pirates from becoming a plague to another place and consuming another people." The bard's fingers gripped the edge of the _zabuton_ as tears welled in her eyes, and she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Please help me to not be afraid. Please watch over me and guide me. _Onegai._" The bard lowered her forehead to the backs of her hands and tried to calm her nerves for a minute after her prayer. "_Onegaishimasu._"

When her fear settled into resolve, the Akaviri-Altmer retrieved her sword, but removed her dragon armor. Carrying it out of the sacred corner with her, she placed it in the display cases that once held her grandfather's armor—her gift to honor her family. Then, taking one last look at the empty inheritance she risked losing forever, she headed back to the _getabako_ for her boots. Without bothering to put them back on, she hooked them in her fingers, left the main estate, and hurried down the path to the stables, where she hid the key in the crates.

Tucking her boots into the now-empty armor sack, she ran towards the ship and jumped from dock to the deck. After a few minutes of checking the rigging, she let out a shrill whistle to call attention to the group gathered at the bridge and gestured with large waves for them to come to her aid.

Surane and Jiub continued work on unlocking the enchantment, but Talvalo, Daerazal, and Rindaalyn jogged the distance back to the dock.

"All aboard the _Crystal Maiden_!" Kielanai called down to them. "I have to take her to the other side of this island. Do any of you thugs know anything about how to sail a pirate ship?"

Talvalo grinned and removed his magical robe. "I thought you'd never ask!" Grasping the rope, he swung onto the deck, dumped his belongings with hers, and climbed straight up the mast to check the bindings on the sail. "You've got very little wind, so it'll have to be tugged using the skiffs," he called down to her. "But I have a spell that can fortify strength, if it's needed."

"I've never been on a ship before, but I've always wanted to sail," Rindaalyn eagerly confessed.

"Lower the skiffs and raise the anchor," she told him.

Rindaalyn ran to the anchor to begin pulling up the incredibly heavy chain.

Daerazal approached Kielanai with skepticism. "You want to take this thing to Akavir, but you don't even know how to sail it?"

"I'm sure Talvalo knows what to do. And both of you worked for pirates, and everyone says sailing is in my blood, so I guess it's inevitable that I should learn. Can you help Rin with the anchor?"

"Aye-aye, Captain," the Drow gave an amused nod of acceptance.

Having said that, the barefoot captain jogged to the top deck of her ship. "_Kaji wo toru_," she told herself with small pride as she grasped the sun-warmed, wooden spokes. _Take the wheel._

))((

For such a short trip, it took a long time and a lot of work to maneuver the large ship around to the back of the little island and dock it a short distance from the spirit bridge. By nightfall, everyone was hungry, sore, and exhausted. Kielanai scrounged the cabinets for rice, crab meat, and carrots left by her house-sitter. And cheap wine completed a meal for everyone at the kitchen's fire pit. But when the meal break was over and dishes were washed, Surane, Jiub, and Talvalo went back to the spirit bridge to finalize work on the enchantment.

Rindaalyn and Daerazal, deep in conversation about something, wandered toward the main estate, through the bamboo hedging toward the water garden.

Kielanai collected a scroll from her travel pack and strolled onto the empty dock at the front of the island where her ship used to be. She took one look at the dragon statue on one side of the dock and the stone lantern flickering in the darkness on the other, then nodded with certainty. Breaking the seal, she unrolled the scroll with care and read the arcane incantation. The words glowed and lifted from the page, swirling into glyphs before bursting apart in a purple dust that settled at her feet. When the last of the dragon's tooth ink was suspended, the parchment thinned into nothing, and the bard found herself standing amid a circle of magical dust marking the place where she wished to return.

When she finished, she decided to pay one last visit to her favorite place on the island—the stone bench beneath the large ginko tree near the waterfall. However, when she passed through the bamboo-lined path, she saw that Daerazal and Rindaalyn were still talking at her scenic spot.

"I've cast the Mark spell," she informed them as she approached. "If we need an emergency escape, it will bring us back to the dock.

"Or so we think," Daerazal retorted. As he stood on the stone ledge gazing toward the black sea, he lifted his chin to vast ceiling of night. On this night, the stars shone brightly. Secunda glowed like a pale ghostly light, only a sliver of it visible in front of the nearly full swell of Masser's red, crater-poxed sphere.

Rindaalyn had taken a liking to the tame deer that roamed the island and was kneeling to pet a fawn that had approached him. "What kind of animal is this? I saw them running from us on the road to Anvil, but these do not run."

"_Shika—_deer," Kielanai answered. "These tame ones are a different breed from the ones in Cyrodiil. I think they were brought on the ship from Akavir because they've been here for as long as I can remember. They grow quite large, so my family used to ride them like horses. I can remember learning how to ride a small one about that size when I was very little." She smiled at the memory.

"Daerazal was telling me more about his homeland. He said the dark elves there ride large lizards. And in the Ashlands we ride silt striders and guar."

Daerazal smirked and turned to face them. "A Drow lizard is very different from a guar. It has sharp teeth and claws. The _tizzin_ is very fast and has sticky toes so it can climb the slippery rock walls and ceilings of the Underdark tunnels."

The bard laughed lightly. "Ceilings? You ride upside down?"

He shrugged, amused that it amused her. "Sometimes."

"Well, deer don't run like horses; they leap. And it's very easy to be thrown off."

The Ashlander sighed hearing the two Outlanders speak of their strange cultures. "Guar are too slow and stupid to do anything interesting. There's nothing special about Morrowind like where you come from."

Kielanai's mouth formed a surprised "o". "Are you kidding me? Where else can you ride on the stomach of a giant flea that's having its brain massaged to tell it which way to go?"

Both dark elves laughed. "Daerazal was telling me how his people were cursed, almost like mine," the young Ashlander continued. "My people were once called the Chimer. We had bronze skin just like Talvalo's baby. But Azura cursed us to be Dunmer for worshiping false gods who betrayed her chosen general. We would forever look like the ash from Red Mountain and suffer from the plague of Dagoth Ur, until Nerevar's spirit could return and guide us back to the Old Ways."

"I'm aware of the legend of Dunmer origins." The bard's chin tilted and her eyes narrowed in curiosity toward Daerazal. "But what happened to the Drow?"

He sat down on the bench and reached for her hand. "Remember I mentioned once that the Drow were banished from the surface realms?"

Her brows knit together, but then rose with the recall as she accepted the invitation to sit beside him. "You mentioned it when you were telling me about Mairiel's grandfather being in a secret society that hunted them."

"A goddess named Araushnee, the Weaver of Destiny, used to be the lover of Corellon Larethian, the father of all elves in my world. But she betrayed him in the Battle of Arvendor and tried to kill him."

"Ah … another betrayal … like Almalexia and Nerevar?"

"Corellon Larethian changed Araushnee into a half-spider demon named Lloth and banished her to the Abyss. Lloth looks a lot like your daedric spiders, but we call them _driders_."

"Yes." She remembered how much he hated the creatures.

"Lloth sought revenge by revealing herself to the dark elves of Ilythiir and using them to weave disputes against the other elves. During the Crown Wars of the elven nations, Corellon Larethian cursed the Ilythiiri to become_ daeraow_ and banished them into the depths of Abeir-Toril. His curse gave them skin as black as their hearts and eyes that could not bear to look upon light. Lloth couldn't remove Corellon's curse, but she came to their aid and led them to the caverns of the Underdark.

"The magical radiations there, the _fraerzress_, gave our ancestors a natural ability to levitate. She blessed their eyes to see colors without light and increased their agility and speed against predators that lurked in the wilds. Above all, she gave her priestesses divine visions and special whips. That's why most Drow today continue to worship her—because of the power she gives to those who please her. That's why she continues to use us as her revenge against the surface races, particularly Corellon's highly favored gold elves."

He waited a moment for that to sink in with the bard. "But, because of the_ fraerzress_, teleportation magic is not reliable over great distances. Because of The Descent, if we want to journey to the Realms Above, we have to travel dangerous paths up to caverns that open under the stars. And even then, most Drow can only surface at night because the sun is too blinding. The only way to open portals from the Underdark to the surface is through some kind of artifact that links the two realms together through the Abyssal planes."

"Sigil stone," Kielanai confirmed again. They were definitely on the right track, even if the task ahead remained daunting.

"Or a ring that bears the same kind of enchantment." He wriggled the fingers on his left hand to remind her of the item that brought him here in the first place. "Their portal device could be anything."

She had forgotten about Daerazal's ring.

Just then, Jiub jogged into the area to join them. "Been looking all over for you guys. Surane says the bridge is ready. She wants to know if we should try it tonight, or wait for tomorrow."

Kielanai chewed a lip and considered how Oblivion gates looked under a blood red sky, regardless of time of day in Cyrodiil. "Does daylight make any difference in navigation?"

Jiub shook his head as if thinking the same thing. "Not really."

"Then I say we get it over with." She looked to her partners.

Rindaalyn stood with a determined expression. He was ready.

"Let's do it," Daerazal agreed.

Everyone headed back to the _minka_ and gathered their remaining supplies. Kielanai, Daerazal, Talvalo, and Rindaalyn boarded the ship, while Surane and Jiub stood on the shore. Surane walked into the center of a magic circle drawn in dragon's tooth powder in the center of the bridge. Talvalao and Kielanai took positions behind the helm. Daerazal and Rindaalyn braced themselves against sturdy parts of the ship to await the unknown.

Surane cast an elaborate spell that strongly resembled Martin's opening of Paradise, except that time and space on the _sea_ side of the bridge began to pinch and twist like the unlocking of the _Mysterium Xarxes_. A whirlpool opened in the air at the end of the bridge, and the ship began to respond to an invisible, but steady pull. The transparent outline of a giant serpent's head with glowing green eyes formed from the twisting void and opened its mouth.

Kielanai's heart raced, but she gripped the wheel and helped Talvalo steer directly toward the yawning portal into nowhere. Within a few minutes, the entire ship was gone. The serpent's head and portal disappeared.

))((

Surane lowered her arms and stared across the bridge to the open water. Her energy was spent, but worry more than fatigue overwhelmed her. There was no trace in the lapping of the gentle waves against the rocks that anything unusual had just happened here. The Imperial mage turned to face the Dunmer thief, as if to ask whether they had done the right thing.

Jiub crossed the bridge, took her hand, and led her away to rest in the farmhouse. "There's nothing we can do for them now. We need to head back to Morrowind tomorrow."


	21. Chapter 21: Mononoke Hashi

Chapter 21: _Mononoke Hashi_

Mist ...

That was all that was visible in every direction. For a long time Kielanai held her grip on the wheel with Talvalo, feeling the pull, but being unable to see it leading anywhere.

Rindaalyn cautiously released the mizzenmast and crossed the deck toward the helm. "Is this Oblivion?"

"No," she uneasily answered. "This isn't anything like Oblivion."

"Just as well," Daerazal spoke from the doorway of the captain's cabin just below them. "Ships wouldn't be able to sail across lakes of lava. Does Oblivion have different levels maybe?"

"I've read that the Daedric Princes each ruled their own plane in Oblivion," she answered. "Mehrunes Dagon owns the Deadlands. I guess that's where we went." The bard looked again at the thick, endless mist. "But I have no idea where we are now, or which prince could own it. Boethiah, maybe? He is the father of plots and secrecy, and this place is definitely hiding something." She could hear waves lapping against the side of the boat, though water was no longer visible anywhere. "Hermaeus scries the tides of fate." Were they about to see their future or their past? Or something worse? "Vaernima rules Quagmire, the realm of nightmares and omens."

"Oh, you are definitely _not_ helping matters," Talvalo grumbled. "So where's this spirit guide that's supposed to tell us the way out?"

In spite of being surrounded by cool vapors, Kielanai's throat felt uncomfortably dry. "Jiub said there were shrines somewhere in here. He said the captain of his ship invoked a spirit from the shrine."

"How are we going to find shrines when we can barely see our own noses?" Talvalo complained.

"Don't you mean, 'How are we going to avoid hitting them?'" Rindaalyn retorted to the contrary.

Kielanai relaxed her grip on the wheel and cautiously released it, gesturing for Talvalo to do the same. The wheel gently turned itself toward the right, then maintained a steady course. "I don't think we have any choice in the matter."

The other three elves exchanged uneasy glances at they watched the ship steer itself.

Ahead in the distance, firelight from two tall structures became visible through the fog. The ship was being drawn between them. At first, they were relieved to finally see something, but the closer the ship came to the stone structures, the more details they could see. Beneath the eternal flames were two grotesque, angry-looking figures.

Daerazal moved up the stairs to join Kielanai and Talvalo at the wheel while keeping his eyes on the twin shrines. "Are those deadric princes?"

"I don't know. I don't recognize them."

"Well, considering these bridges were named for vengeful spirits, I don't trust them, either." He drew his sword and scanned the area for more, but there seemed to be only these two.

Talvalo and Rindaalyn also drew their weapons with nervous anticipation, but the creaking ship continued to be drawn through unseen water without incident.

Finally, it slowed to a stop between the two pillars. For a long moment, the gentle waves lapping against the creaking ship were the only sounds. Then, something bumped against the hull. Everyone exchanged wary glances again, but no one moved until a second bump was heard.

Kielanai went to the rail and leaned over to look below. A small, misshapen face with no eyes, no teeth, and no hair stretched an unnaturally long neck through the thick mist around the bottom of the ship. It appeared to be gasping for breath or pleading to be rescued from drowning. The bard gasped at the tiny horror and quickly drew back to face her friends.

"What is it? What did you see?" Talvalo brushed past her to lean over the port rail.

Kielani found the courage to look again. After a second or two, the same type of deformed little head rose above the mists, but this time a small, slimy arm reached toward them, as if crying out for aid. Then another appeared and tried to climb over the first, pushing it back under. Then another … As the dead souls writhed over each other in their blind, silent attempts to reach above the mist, the bumping increased under the ship's belly.

"What in the name of the gods are they?" he asked, repulsed.

Daerazal and Rindaalyn moved to the rail to see what had caused such a reaction in the other two. Rindaalyn grimaced in disgust, but Daerazal looked more perplexed than repulsed.

"_Mizuko ..._ water babies," Kielanai vaguely answered. The bumping and sloshing of water was enough to let her know they were being surrounded. The bard began to feel sick to her stomach. "Children who die before they are added to the list of those accepted among the gods become sad and angry that they did not get a chance at life. They cause bad things to happen to the living."

"Great," the Drow muttered unhappily. "I _told_ you the bridge was a bad idea." The bumping was getting bad enough that it began to sway and rock the ship. "Can we do anything to get rid of them?"

"Vengeful spirits are difficult to calm."

"Would my calming charm help?" Talvalo offered. "I will _gladly_ cast it into the water if it will make them go away."

"_Koko ni ... kono kasumi ni ... naze kimashita ka ..._" an ethereal voice hissed as a shadowed figure appeared in the mist beyond the two shrines and walked toward the ship's bowsprit.

All eyes turned to Kielanai for translation.

"It wants to know why we came here into the mist."

"Tell it we want to go to Akavir, near the Nightsong Desert," Daerazal advised.

As the figure came closer, it stepped onto the tip of the bowsprit and walked down the long, slender pole toward them. It had no face, no skin ... not even a real voice. It appeared to be made of the mist itself. "_Koko ni ... kono kasumi ni ... naze kimashita ka ..._" it repeated.

Kielanai swallowed her rising fear and walked down the steps of the upper deck to meet the strange spirit near the mizzenmast. "_Yonaki Sabaku he ikenakerebanarimasen. Onegaishimasu._" She added a deep bow and held the position in hopes that proper humility and respect shown with the request would help. When the spirit did not respond right away, the bard looked behind her and saw her shipmates watching the ghostly thing with suspicion. "_Bow_," she ordered through clenched teeth.

The three men behind her copied her bowed stance, but continued to keep their weapons drawn and their eyes steady upon the featureless apparition.

"_Ujigami ha ... Dare desu ka ..._" the ethereal whisper continued.

"_U_..." The bard looked up puzzled, and more than a little worried. "_Ujigami? Sumimasen. Wakarimasen._"

"_Ujigami ha ... Dare desu ka ..._" it repeated.

Kielanai looked to the elves behind her again. "It wants to know who a family spirit is, but I'm not sure what that means."

The whisper changed, deepening and becoming scratchy. "_Ujigami ga imasen!_" it scolded with a hiss.

Surprised at the sudden change of tone, Kielanai whirled to face the spirit. "_Matte kudasai yo!_" she begged and tried desperately to think of some excuse. "_Ujigami ga imasu! Anou ... chichi desu!_"

"_Onamae ka?_" the scratchy hiss demanded.

"_Kawauta,_" she nervously answered. "_Kawauta Tatsuya desu."_

"_Uso!_" the voice threatened becoming more solid. Thunder and lightning split the mist and a wind began to pick up from no direction in particular. The ship began to rock violently as if being tossed upon stormy waves, though it remained held between the two pillars.

Daerazal used one hand to grip the side rail. "What the hell did you just say to it?"

"It accused me of not having a patron spirit. I said I did and gave the name of my father, but now it's calling me a liar!" The bard stumbled backwards into the mizzenmast and used it to steady her footing on the turbulent vessel.

"_Baka na kozou,_" the voice calmly scolded in a sinister tone. "_Kawauta ka ga ... imasen,_" it growled as the mists began to darken and rain began to fall.

Kielanai became angry at the spirit's insistence that her family did not exist. "_Chigaimasu! Ikimasu yo!_" she defiantly shouted back. "I _am_ the Kawauta clan! _I_ live!"

The faceless ghost was silent for a moment and calm in spite of the storm brewing around it. But then it gave one simple, broken command. "_Shi ... ne ..._" As soon as it spat the death judgment upon her, the darkening apparition began to take on a shape as solid as its voice. Its body lengthened to stand head and shoulders taller than her. Shimmering golden eyes with vertical-slit pupils opened in the void and then the face of an angry Akaviri man filled in behind them. His black hair was pulled back tight and twisted high upon his partially shaved head, pulled taut enough to emphasize the square bone structure of his jaw. His golden scaled chest and arms bore shimmering tattoos of snakes that moved across his skin, coiling themselves around his ribs and biceps. His smile revealed sharp, blackened fangs and a forked tongue, and in his hand he held a magnificent naginata.

"Kuroi-Dokuga?" Kielanai shook her head in disbelief. "You're dead! I burned your remains!"

The wicked-looking man's glare turned into a sinister chuckle as he hefted the long pole-arm and pointed its razor-sharp blade toward the bard. "_Kaetta ... Kawauta-chan_."

Daerazal suddenly understood. "That's the Tsaesci pirate that killed her father!" he told the others. "She killed him to get her family's island back. Looks like he's going to hold a grudge about it."

"Akaviri Kojima belonged to _me_, Kawauta-chan," the Tsaesci pirate spoke in a heavy, bitter accent. "_I_ am the one who brought your pitiful clan to Tamriel, but they betrayed us! I allowed them to roam the island freely, but they made contracts with the Emperor. And then you betrayed us as well. Our blood taints your island. You cannot burn it away. And you will not escape me this time." Beneath his feet, _mizuko_ began to rise through the floorboards of the deck.

Each surfacing water child mutated into the lower torso of a golden-scaled snake, the upper torso of a human male, and the face of one of the Tsaesci pirates Kielanai vividly remembered. More and more of them appeared aboard their stolen vessel, brandishing weapons, ready to take it back, until the entire crew that she had killed stood before her once more.

"By invoking the name of the Kawauta clan to the _aragami _..."

"_Aragami!_" Kielanai realized with horror what she had just done.

"You have given me the right to challenge you," the pirate finished.

"What the hell is an _aragami_?" Daerazal demanded behind her, as he snapped his sword into a defensive stance.

"She has invoked the aid of a vengeful god," the Tsaesci captain answered before the bard could find her voice, but he did not remove his attention from her as he spoke to the dark elf. "You cannot defeat an _aragami_, but to earn the right of passage through his domain, you must defeat an enemy of your guardian spirit. However," he added as his lips split in a wide, wicked grin to display his black fangs, "You have no guardian spirit. And if I defeat you ... I get a second chance at life."

Several of the snake-men behind him snickered with hisses and drew their weapons. "_Kawauta-chan no ketsueki wo nomitai ne?_" One of the undead Tsaesci pirates gave a grim chuckle as he slithered toward her. "_Oishii_," he darkly chuckled again, threatening to drink her tasty blood. Opening his mouth, he revealed poison-tainted saliva dripping from long, white fangs.

Kielanai remembered how they had stormed the island and killed her family. She remembered what it was like to purge them from the island by herself. But realizing there was no way to escape facing these pirates a third time, she became so enraged that her body began to tremble with hate. Without a second thought to strategy or loss, the Akaviri-Altmer whipped her katana out of its _saya_ with a loud _shiiiiing_ and struck a powerful slash to her right—not at the Tsaesci captain out of arm's reach at the other end of the naginata, but toward his crew mate that had laughed at her.

Her first strike caught him by surprise. He didn't feel her second and third. _Itai Kokoro_ had already drained his health and absorbed his soul into one of the magical gems tucked into her belt. Her three companions needed no further battle cry.

Talvalo drew flames in hand and cast a fireball into the gathered Tsaesci blasting them backwards and toppling half of them off of the boat into the mysteriously shrouded depths below. He nearly caught the deck itself on fire in the process, though—a harsh reminder that his largest, most damaging spells could put their only means of staying afloat at risk. The slick residue left behind by the _mizuko_ combined with increasing rain to prevent immediate harm, but he had to use other means.

Daerazal thrust Spider Bite low to the snake-like gut of one of the pirates thinking their lack of armor would make them easy prey. He wasn't expecting the tail of the creature to swing up between his arms and pin his strike in place, allowing dual-blades to cut both sides of his ribs. The Drow snarled at this new "three-handed" challenge and tried again, this time slashing toward the left side of his opponent's neck, then quickly spinning right to catch him from a left angle instead. The snake-man suffered a severe cut to his neck that should have killed him, but he did not go down. In fact, he raised both blades in retaliation and sliced down in an "X" to push the Drow back.

Rindaalyn ran up the steps to the helm, drew his chitin bow, set an arrow in it and fired. The deadly missile struck right into the heart of one of the Tsaesci pirates, but it did nothing to slow the pirate's advance. "They are already ghosts!" he realized what should have been obvious in the first place. His ordinary weapons could not harm them, and he knew no magic—no magic except the natural ability to call upon an ancestor guardian.

Kielanai slashed and thrust toward any Tsaesci that came within her katana's range. Her long, silver hair clung to her face and neck in the uncomfortable, cold rain, making visibility a problem, but she used every trick in her knowledge to dodge, climb, cast, and kick her way out of some nasty exchanges. The more Tsaesci that she managed to cut down, however, the more _mizuko_ rose through the deck to take their places. And it was beginning to look like more than one copy of the same individual was appearing. When would it end?

Talvalo summoned a daedroth, which voraciously tore into one of the snake-men. Then, the former pirate drew his sword on another. Their steel clanged in unison for several parries, but only one hand came up quick enough to swing behind the back of his opponent's neck. The auburn-haired battlemage cast a paralysis spell with his unweighted hand, jerked his sword down the left side of the Tsaesci's body, and then thrust the blade through his chest. Pushing him back, he toppled the serpent-man like a sack of grain. But, the serpent man's body vanished before Talvalo could lay claim to the exotic double-bladed sword that he carried, and to his dismay a new _mizuko_ rose through the deck and resumed the shape of that same snake-man, ready to fight again. The crew that he had toppled into the sea of mist with the fireball was climbing back over the sides of the ship to rejoin the battle. "Shit! They just keep coming!"

The bard's eyes shifted toward the pirate captain. Instead of joining the fight, he had moved to the back allowing his henchmen to do the fighting for him, but he was still watching her. Her fight with Mankar Camoran came to mind, and she considered how he was the only mortal among immortals. The only way to kill his guardian children was to kill him. And yet, Kuroi-Dokuga had been the _aragami_ prior to his transformation. Was he still an immortal _aragami_, delighting in watching them work themselves to death in a battle they could never win? Or was he truly the soul of the mortal man she had already killed? There was only one way to find out.

"_Sou!_" She centered her katana with both hands and cut her way through the ruffians toward her new target, determined to end her life-long battle with him once and for all.

The Tsaesci captain hefted his naginata and swept it down to intercept her strike. Swatting it aside, he swept it back up to the base of her neck with perfect timing. Her wrist and shoulder suffered deep cuts from the quick exchange, but one sweep to the right would have also beheaded her, if Kielanai had not been just as quick to wedge her katana between the naginata and her ear.

Rindaalyn flipped his useless bow onto his back and called into the mist, drawing upon his Dunmer bloodline to summon his ancestral guardian. Right now a ghost that could fight other ghosts was his only means of defense.

But as his spectral spell was cast, _Itai Kokoro_ began to thrum with an energy Kielanai never felt before. The characters written on the side of her blade burned deep red and then glowed white. In spite of the downpour, smoke burned through that white glow and began to take shape. "Rindaalyn! What are you doing to my katana!"

Kuroi-Dokuga growled and summoned his own sorcery in retaliation. The serpent tattoos on his chest and arms glowed with green magic and then shot from his flesh toward her. Spines visible through ethereal bodies, the snakes' skulls sank fangs into both sides of her throat before wrapping their bodies tightly around her neck.

Kielanai remembered seeing her father die from this spell. She knew there was no way to escape the same fate, but in one last effort to destroy their maker, she slapped her katana against the blade of the naginata on her shoulder and spun to try to reach underneath it. The Tsaesci captain dropped to his knees and swept the naginata up under her chest, piercing through her elven armor into her flesh. The snakes chose that moment to constrict her arms and ribs as well. _Itai Kokoro_ fell from her grip ... but it was immediately picked up by someone else.

))((

"Kuroi-Dokuga!" A male voice sternly shouted. One ghostly hand gripped the sword and brought it up swiftly against the naginata, catching the pirate captain off-guard before the other hand encircled the deadly pole-arm's blade and knocked it away from the mortally wounded bard. As the ghostly challenger began to take on a solid form, he transformed into a small human dressed in bamboo-and-iron-plated armor with a fierce, masked helmet. And he moved to stand between the bard and the pirate captain. "Someone take her inside! _Ima!_ _Hayaku!_" he shouted to the elven crew behind him.

When the Tsaeci captain saw who was holding the katana, his face twisted in fury. Rising from his kneeling position into a crouched one, he jabbed the naginata toward his new foe.

Not understanding what had happened to his ancestral spell, but knowing his axe and bow were useless, Rindaalyn ran to Kielanai and dragged her snake-bound body away from the mysterious warrior. He tried to grasp the snakes to pull them away, but his fingers went right through them. "They won't release her!" the youth shouted in panic.

Talvalo dodged his own fight to run to their aid. "There are some restorative potions in my pack." He dispelled the magic binding her. "Hurry!"

The scout nodded and pulled the limp bard into his arms and over his shoulder, then rushed her into the captain's cabin.

There was no good place to put her in the cramped quarters of the immediate interior, so he carefully laid her on the rug in the den. "Kielanai?" When she didn't respond, he grabbed the buckles of her armor and pried them open to help her breathe.

She groaned and coughed up blood in response.

Wasting no more time on the armor, the Ashlander scout ran to the stacked bags just outside the cabin door. One of them could save her life ... if he could find Talvalo's restoratives in time.

))((

Distracted by Kielanai's injury and finding solid footing to be increasingly difficult on the wet deck, Daerazal slipped and felt the cold burn of steel cut through his armor into his arm. Grabbing the blade in his gauntlet, he struggled to push it away. But once the blade was free of his flesh, he jerked the blade toward himself again. And this time he turned and flipped his opponent over his shoulder, throwing him onto the deck. Grabbing the katana by the blade one more time, he forced the point down and then cupped a hand over the hilt and drove it home.

Kuroi-Dokuga swept his naginata over his head to strike the man holding Kielanai's sword. The smaller man's katana turned horizontally to catch the downswing and hold it for a second. Then, after trading fast and furious blows, the mysterious warrior backed away to reposition his katana over his head at a backwards, down-slanted angle, while the pirate captain swept his naginata in large, silent circles. Neither of the men moved for a moment in the standoff.

Clutching a hand to his arm to stem the bleeding, the Drow watched the mysterious samurai that had come to Kielanai's aid. He didn't know who this man was, but as long as he helped fight the onslaught of unstoppable pirates, he didn't care.

Eventually the Tsaesci captain let out a cry and lunged forward. As his opponent slashed down, the samurai side-stepped, deflected the hit, and lunged forward under the naginata to push the hilt of his katana up under the pirate captain's chin, as Kielanai had tried to do before she was struck down. Stepping one foot around and behind his opponent, the samurai pushed the pirate down. Then, dropping to his knees, he punched the hilt into the pirate captain's throat again.

The two men stared at each other with sheer hate as the Tsaesci captain coughed and gasped for breath, trying to hang onto his remaining moments of a briefly promised resurrection. "Tatsuya," he spat the name as he squinted into the rain and thunder crashed overhead. "_Doko kara kita?_"

The mysterious man pulled his helm from his head to reveal messy, blue-black hair tied low at his neck. His eyes were as black as his hair and set above shallow cheekbones. "_Itai Kokoro kara. _ _Sayounara, Kuroi-Dokuga._" Flipping the enchanted katana around correctly, the bamboo-clad warrior stabbed it through the pirate captain's undead heart, dismissing his summoning.

With the death of Kuroi-Dokuga, the other pirates faded away, as did the bodies of the defeated clones that had begun to collect on the slippery floorboards of the deck. The water children calmed and disappeared reluctantly back beneath the misty sea. And the rain began to wash the blood and slime from the deck.

Tired, but victorious, the black-haired human rose to his feet and walked away from the battle toward the twin pillars, where he bowed with reverence and spoke in his native tongue to the misty figure that appeared before him on the bowspit.

Daerazal watched in silence until Talvalo moved next to him. "Who is he?" he whispered.

"Tatsuya was the name of Kielanai's father," the battlemage answered.

The Drow cast him a skeptical glance, then shivered in the continuing deluge as the samurai left the fading wraith and returned to where they stood.

The Akaviri human stopped before the elves and bowed in greeting. "_Hajimemashite._ _Kawauta Tatsuya desu_." Slowly, he rose to meet their eyes.

For a human, Daerazal thought he looked rather young. If he had died when Kielanai was a small child, he must have been rather young himself.

"I am ... Kielanai's father. It's nice to meet you. I looked into Kuroi-Dokuga's eyes to see if I did a wrong thing by killing him, but the poisonous intentions I saw there reminded me that his dark spirit is not worthy of a soul gem, much less a second chance at life. I have told the _aragami_ that I will be the_ ujigami_ for your trip through this plane. No more harm should come to this ship now that the blood token has been paid." He paused to retrieve his helmet and tuck it under his arm. "I would like to see my daughter, please."

Anxious to get out of the rain, Daerazal led the way to the door of the captain's cabin and opened it for their spirit guide. Then he and Talvalo took one last, uncertain look at the stormy clouds surrounding the ship before following him inside.

The cabin was dark and cold, since it had not been used in so long, but Daerazal's magical eyes were able to detect the warm glow of life from Rindaalyn and Kielanai on the floor. "How is she?"

Talvalo cast a light spell revealing the presence of the scout and the bard to non-magical eyes, as well.

"Ugh! _Iblith!_" the Drow winced and turned away, trying to see past the painful spots that danced before his eyes.

"Sorry. Forgot about that." The battlemage removed his soaked magical robes and hung them on the wardrobe door to drip dry, then knelt to check the bard's pulse at her throat.

The Drow snarled at the bland apology and almost cursed the gold elf with a mouthful of obscenities, but drew a breath to temper his irritation and faced his present company once more.

"I think she's stable from the poison, and I gave her your strongest restorative, but she's too weak to cast healing spells on herself to finish the job. I could give her another healing potion," the Ashlander offered, full of doubt.

"Don't waste them just yet." Kielanai, though very weak from her near-death experience, smiled at their concern and set a hand over Talvalo's. "Thank you … both of you."

Talvalo smiled in return. "Find something to keep her warm. I'll go start a fire in the hearth and light some lanterns," he told the younger elf, then rose to set about his task of warming the cabin.

The light spell followed the Altmer mage into the dining nook, much to Daerazal's relief.

The Dunmer searched the wardrobe and the chest of drawers, then found some wolf and bear pelts on the shelves and draped them over her as blankets.

Tatsuya Kawauta removed all of his wet armor at the door, before he moved to join the elves in the den. In his tabi, dark blue hakama, and bloody, white kimono, he held _Itai Kokoro_ carefully before him and knelt on one knee by Kielanai's side. A sad smile touched his lips as he fought back his emotion at seeing her again. "This sword belonged to your uncle, Masahiro. I don't know if you remember him, but he will be happy to know you have put it to good use." He set the enchanted katana on the rug.

Kielanai gazed up into her father's face, unable to believe it was really him.

"You look … very different from the little girl I left behind, and yet I know that face beyond any doubt."

Kielanai, though still very weak from the poisoning, sat up with Rindaalyn's help, unable to take her eyes off of the figure that spoke to her. First fighting back tears, then bowing her head, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "_Doumo arigatougozaimashita ... Tousan,_" she thanked him.

Tatsuya drew his long-lost daughter into his arms. "_Douitashimashite na,_" he lightly answered, as if it were nothing, though the slight sniffle that followed that grace revealed his true feelings.

Talvalo grabbed some of the chopped wood piled near the stone stove in the nook and arranged it under the grill before casting a small fire spell over it. The wood crackled and snapped to life, adding a more natural glow to their dim surroundings once his light spell faded. "Are there candles in those sconces?" he asked of Daerazal.

The Drow took the candles out of their holders as Talvalo lowered the copper chandelier above the table. But he passed them to the mage, rather than entering the proximity of the fire to light the candles himself.

"_Dou shimashita ka?_" Kielanai asked of her father, then drew back to look at him once more. "How did you do it? How are you here?"

"I have watched over you ever since you returned to our little island. Before you left to come on this journey, you asked your family for guidance, so we traveled with you in the heart of this sword. The _aragami_ of these _mononoke hashi_ demand a blood token of anyone who requests passage. It is usually taken in the form of a battle between the spirit guardian of the captain and any spirit that would invoke revenge against him. Only a spirit guardian can guide you through these waters. You invoked my name as your _ujigami_, so I came to your call."

Tatsuya looked to the Dunmer youth hovering near the bard. "But it was this young man's magic that summoned me into physical form. You have the eyes of my enemy, yet you have favored me as a friend. What is your name?"

"Rindaalyn Zhiannizhian." The Ashlander drew back in shame. "I meant to summon my own ancestor guardian, but I don't know his name. I guess the spell accidentally called you instead."

"You do not know the ancestor you summon?"

The youth shook his head. "No."

Tatsuya smiled. "Well, you have my name now. Please do not hesitate to call me again."

Rindaalyn's brows rose in surprise.

"You helped save my daughter's life. I will repay the favor."

"But I am the grandson of a Tsaesci pirate and a Dunmer from western Morrowind. If the spirit I usually summon happened to be my grandfather, he might not have been so helpful this time."

"There were good men in the Tsaesci nation, too. Perhaps your grandfather was one of those good men, even if the attention always goes to the aggressors. Kuroi-Dokuga and his crew were poison from the inside out. His very name means 'Black-Poison Fang'. He was sent to Tamriel to scout the Gold Coast for one of the ruling shogun in Tsaesci, but he did more than spy. He plundered Imperial vessels and kept the treasures to himself for trade back in Akavir.

"We were his slaves. He had us play the role of fugitives in order to join the Imperial Blades and learn information about the Empire's naval weaknesses. We obeyed because we knew he would kill one of us if any of us stepped out of line. But my father so desperately wanted freedom for his family that he dared to slip the Emperor true information on the pirates. We all supported his decision. But Kuroi-Dokuga found out, and he retaliated without mercy. He reclaimed the island and killed us all. If my wife had not broken the rules about allowing visitors to the island, Kielanai would have been counted among the dead. So, if even one among our family finally has the freedom the rest of us longed for," he looked toward his daughter, "it was worth it."

"You lived pretty luxuriously on that island to be slaves," Daerazal couldn't help but insert.

"It was a painted canvas to cover worm-hole wood. Underneath the luxury meant to impress and gain the loyalty of the Emperor, there were nights of watching Tsaeci drink goblin blood, while they threatened to drink the blood of our children next. There were hard days building that island base because they would not labor on their own. Kielanai did not witness most of the torture we endured. We had to hide much of the truth from her so that she would not live in fear." At this point, Tatsuya seemed deeply troubled and could not meet his daughter's gaze for long.

Daerazal glanced at his injured arm and selfishly wished the bard were well enough to cast her healing magic, though he dare not make such a request right now. "Did you work with anyone outside of the Blades who would know Akavir was scouting the Gold Coast? Now that the Grandmaster and the Emperor are both dead, the High Chancellor doubts any records exist on your or your island."

Tatsuya visibly saddened at this news. "We never worked with the Elder Council. If they say they don't know of records, chances are most of them truly don't."

"_Most_ of them?" the dark warrior was quick to catch the subtle use of the term.

"There is no way of knowing if any of them found out about covert operations, particularly where Kuroi-Dokuga was concerned. He may have bought one of them out. In fact, that is probably how he found out we were acting as double agents. We lived in paranoia from the moment we set foot on Tamriel's soil. It was almost a mockery of the freedom we so badly desired. And now the bridge you have chosen is meant to take you away from freedom in Tamriel back to Akavir. Why?"

Daerazal hesitated to answer, but then reminded himself he was speaking with a ghost, rather than someone who could spread rumors throughout Tamriel. "We've received word that my sister and a prominent figure from Morrowind's Tribunal are being held captive in a portal that touches the Nightsong Desert in Akavir. The people who have taken them captive are from an outer realm. These people are similar to me, but with very bad intentions toward Tamriel ... and my sister. They are Llothian Drow, and they've worked out a deal with the Tsaesci to use Oblivion gates to invade Morrowind."

"And if that wasn't bad enough," Kielanai added in a weak voice, "this comes right on the heels of Cyrodiil having already suffered one such invasion from another cult of demon worshipers called the Mythic Dawn. The last of the Septim line sacrificed himself to close those gates once already. Cyrodiil is in no position to have to defend itself, or any other province, against something like that happening again so soon."

Tatsuya sighed at this news and stood. "So, you intend to rescue your sister, and this other important person, and stop these people from opening the gates of Oblivion again," he guessed as he folded his hands inside the large sleeves of his kimono.

Kielanai nodded. "We took the bridge because I thought it would save us time. I knew it could be dangerous, but ..."

"But now that you are in this fix, you must see it through to the end." Tatsuya sighed. "You are definitely my daughter."

Pacing in short space, he rubbed his chin in thought. "I hate to say it, but I think it would be best if I take you to the pirate cove Kuroi-Dokuga used. They probably don't know he is dead, and you can explain your ship's appearance by telling them you are his spies on the Tamriel's southern shores. I don't know how you will explain his not being aboard, though. Slaves don't sail without their masters."

"I was afraid of that," Daerazal spoke and sat on the top of the chest of drawers. "Pirates are a suspicious lot. If we have to make our landing in a pirate cove, they'll definitely want to see the captain, particularly if it's a ship they know."

"I already thought of that," Kielanai inserted. "Could someone hand me my pack, please?"

Rindaalyn went to the packs he had groped through when he first brought her into the cabin and handed Kielanai's bag to her.

The battlemage returned the lit candles to their holders. "Nice little tub you have here, Kielanai. How in the world did you manage to create a freshwater fountain in the dining nook?"

"Did you see the welkynd stone underneath the ferns? My grandmother had been doing experiments with welkynd stones and bonsai trees grown without sunlight. I found her notes and learned how to copy what she did, so I could purify water and grow plants on the ship without sunlight. There's one in the washroom, as well. This whole ship serves as an extension of my grandmother's experiments." Kielanai fished around inside the bag until she found the race generator Talvalo had bought. "Daerazal, remember the Orc from outside of Skingrad that was going to take a shipload of thugs to Skyrim?"

The Drow was mildly surprised that she would bring that up now. "I remember _him_, but I don't remember his name."

"Urgog ma-Bol. I wrote it down, remember? Now, I know you don't fancy acting in skits, and frankly you're not very good at it. But you're the only one of us who actually spoke to him, so you're the one who has to do this." She hooked a finger toward him, gesturing for him to come to her.

He drew back, instead. "Do what?"

"It's not likely an elf would help anyone attack Morrowind. However, an Orc bandit in league with the Nords of Skyrim might take Kuroi-Dokuga's ship back to Tsaesci to join the invasion." She passed the amulet to Talvalo. "You need to suggest to whoever questions our presence that if Orc mercenaries and Nords attack from the north while the Tsaesci attack from the south, and the Drow open Oblivion gates on the interior, Morrowind could fall within hours."

The Altmer grinned as he slipped the race amulet over the Drow's head.

Kielanai smiled with delight as she watched the transformation.

The Drow was mortified to see his ink-black skin turn dark green. His lower canine teeth elongated into tusks. His stature increased, both in height and in muscular bulk, giving his subtle elven strength a shape more naturally obvious on an Orc. Daerazal sat for a moment, stunned at how much his own hands and arms had changed.

Talvalo and Rindaalyn snickered, then laughed out loud. Even Tatsuya had a chuckle at the illusion.

Hopping off of the chest of drawers, Daerzal marched toward the mirror hanging on the wall next to the entrance of the captain's cabin. His white hair had darkened into a coarse black mane, while his red eyes had lightened into an orange-yellow. "You can't be serious!" he fussed at the bard.

"There is no way Tsaesci pirates would let a bunch of elves from Tamriel use their docks," she reminded him. "Likewise, there is no way they would turn down a conniving bandit king like Urgog ma-Bol, once they hear of his designs. You might even be able to glean the name of the warlord who made the alliance with the Drow, as well as directions to Sassubaa, if you play your cards right."

"I can give you directions to Sassubaa and the Nightsong Desert," Tatsuya volunteered.

"What about the rest of us?" Rindaalyn questioned Kielanai. "We only have one race charm."

"The rest of us can pose as Urgog's thugs," she explained. The exertion from sitting up made her feel faint enough that she needed to lie back down.

"That's so ridiculous that only a bard would expect it to work," Talvalo commented.

"Do you have any better ideas?" she challenged.

"I can't act like an Orc," Daerazal protested.

"My dear Drow, there's a reason people have told me Orcs have better manners than you," she retorted.

"I think it will work," Tatsuya inserted his opinion. "But it will depend on how many questions you can avoid, instead of how many you can ask."

The Drow-Orc sighed in resignation at being stuck in this absurd role-playing game.

"Aw, don't be that way about it." Kielanai dug a finger into the bag of race charms. "Look, at the size of your muscles now. Much easier for you to brag about how strong you are as an orc, than as a shrimpy little Drow. I wonder what you would look like wearing the Altmer charm." She held it up and squinted one eye past the item toward him, as if sizing him up in an experimental manner.

Daerazal snatched the charm pouch from her, before she could get carried away with seeing what other kinds of magical havoc she could create with his physical composition. "If I burp in your face, scratch my ass, and wolf-whistle at your legs, don't forget _you're_ the one who turned me into an orc."

The bard was amused. "You would wolf-whistle at my legs?"

"It's an Orc thing. You wouldn't understand."

Kielanai put a hand on her half-healed wound, but laughed lightly at his disgruntled demeanor.

"_Oi,_" Tatsuya gave Daerazal a fatherly frown and folded his arms over his chest. "_Kielanai ha musume da, na_. None of that."


	22. Chapter 22: Crystal Maiden

Chapter 22: _Crystal Maiden_

When Kielanai was feeling stronger, she cast healing spells over herself and tended to her shipmates' injuries at the freshwater fountain in the dining loft. She gave Rindaalyn an extra big hug and a kiss for helping summon her father to their aid, which made the young Ashlander blush deeply beneath his gray-blue skin. Having used all their healing potions in this manner, Kielanai decided her first task should be to make more restoratives.

Taking a small knife from a chest on a shelf, she moved to the table and snipped the succulent leaves from the aloe vera plant growing there. Mid-way through the task, though, she cast an unhappy glance toward the sunless windows. "With all that fog out there, I doubt we're going to be seeing much sunlight. I should probably move all the plants into the ship's belly, so my grandmother's welkynd stones can help them grow. Could someone help carry them, please?" she requested as she picked up her potted aloe.

"No, there is no sunlight here." Tatsuya picked up one of the window boxes that had little radish plants growing in it. "Your mother would be very surprised to see how you have changed this piece of stinking driftwood into a sea-faring greenhouse."

Kielanai grinned at his compliment. "Oh, this is nothing compared to the lower deck."

"What did you do to the lower deck?" Leaning against a barrel of ale, Talvalo was curious.

"Come see." The bard grinned in a demure, catlike manner.

Rindaalyn grabbed the other window box containing miniature fennel, flax, and gensing plants and followed the bard and the samurai to the trap door leading down into the ship's belly.

Daerazal opened the door and propped it for them before following.

The dirty, cramped mid-deck barracks had been converted into a spacious training room. Bookcases lined the narrow hall, along with rugs, various shields, a few statuettes, and silk-ivy that almost looked real. "_Sugoi na ..._" Tatsuya muttered and peeked into a comfortable-looking bedroom. "It is a floating home now."

"I borrowed the idea from the Bloated Float. It's a ship that's been converted to an inn in the Waterfront District in Imperial City," she updated her father as she led them past the small washroom, past her own quarters, into a small cubby with display cases and another trap door. "I guess I was thinking I could do something similar to bring in visitors from Anvil once I had it fixed up."

"Like my Morrowind island?" Talvalo turned to Daerazal. "See, it's not such a dumb idea after all. People with money to waste will always look for unique and interesting ways to waste it."

Hands full with her aloe plant and clippings, she waited for Talvalo to open the second trap door before carefully descending.

"Do we need a light spell?" he asked.

"_No,_" Daerazal grumped from behind and removed the Orc race charm to his pocket, so he could look like his normal Drow-self once more—a reminder to the battlemage about his light sensitivity.

"Light isn't necessary down here," she answered as she disappeared in a room awash with a pale-blue glow.

The others followed her decent. Potted trees lined the curved, wall planks near the ladder, and a small raised bed grew a cluster of tightly packed vegetables and berries. Beyond the open storage closet that was packed with crates and sacks of various supplies, behind ivory, lace curtains, two enormous welkynd stone clusters could be seen potted among various mushroom species. And beyond that at the back of the ship was a small alchemy lab affixed with an Ayleid lamp and more stones.

Kielanai set her aloe vera plant near one of the welkynd clusters and turned to accept the radish box from her father. "What do you think?"

"I think ... " Tatsuya turned around to see every inch of the magical garden. "I think your grandmother would be proud. She often wondered what secrets those stones held. She felt that if the Ayleids used this magic to light and guard their dark citadels, perhaps we could learn how to do it, too. It removed certain worries from her mind to study those crystals ... much the way your mother could lose herself for hours in her flower garden."

"_Crystal Maiden ..._" Talvalo mused at the ship's name. "I get it now."

"The energy in the crystals can be used to replenish magic in our weapons and ourselves," the bard explained, "but that same magical energy also generates a light that can grow plants and purify water. So, we don't need to worry about running out of food or fresh water," she assured them. "We just have to be diligent about harvesting and replanting when necessary." After setting the radish box on a shelf in her cramped alchemy lab, Kielanai accepted the herb box that Rindaalyn held. "By the way ... how long is this journey going to take?" she asked of her father.

"On the ocean it would take almost half a year, but you are traveling on a sea of spirits now. Maybe a month," Tatsuya predicted. "I can only take you to another _mononoke hashi_, though." He seated himself on a bench beneath a small maple tree potted near the ladder. "I cannot return to Akavir with you, but you carry the spirits of the Kawauta clan in your blood, and in your katana."

Kielanai was delighted to hear that, but then became troubled. "My conjuration skills aren't worth very much, I'm afraid. And what if I lose the katana?"

Tatsuya laughed. "Rindaalyn-kun can summon for you. But if you lose Masahiro's katana, he will come rant at you himself. You cannot lose us, Kielanai. We are part of you ... always. Even Masahiro." The rogue samurai laughed again.

She laughed and bowed her head in gratitude, then began snipping mushrooms with the small knife to make her potions. He probably didn't know she'd already lost her grandfather's sword in an Oblivion citadel, so she decided not to mention that.

As the storm continued to rage and rock the ship, Daerazal grabbed onto the nearby post and rubbed his stomach because of a queasy unease. "Being able to summon you will come in handy for finding our way to the Nightsong Desert. You said you knew directions."

"_Hai, shittemasu. _Sassubaa, Yonaki Sabaku_,_ and just beyond there …"

Kielanai took the mushrooms she snipped to the desk in the mage's study. "Is Sassubaa a Tsaesci town?" The bard sorted the mushroom caps on the table and paused to adjust an Ayleid welkynd-lamp before preparing her alchemy equipment.

Tatsuya grunted in agreement and walked down the narrow hall of the swaying ship to join her. "All towns near Yonaki Sabaku are Tsaesci towns, but their culture is much like ours. Cover your head and keep to the ways I have taught you. That will help."

Talvalo took a seat on the bench between the miniature trees and stretched his long legs across the small walkway. "In a land of people with snake-like bodies, won't it be obvious we don't belong, no matter how we behave?"

The ship hit a bump forcing everyone standing to grab the nearby wall to steady balance.

"What was that?" Still paranoid from the previous battle, Rindaalyn set his hand on his axe.

"Sea demon," Tatsuya calmly answered. "The mystical ethers below us are full of demon spirits, too. They will hit the ship on occasion. It is best that you stay inside for the journey, or you will be at their mercy if you fall overboard."

"Lovely." The battlemage gave the bard a flat frown, again, for choosing this method of transport.

"You do not have snake bodies, but neither did we." The Akaviri samurai smiled. "_Mukashi, mukashi ..."_ he began.

"Long, long ago ...'" Kielanai translated with a smile of her own. It was how he started her bedtime stories when she was a child.

"Humans used to rule the land that is called Tsaesci," the father of the bard continued. "But our ancestors captured beast races and turned them into slaves. Then, one of the snake-beasts was transformed by a vampire cat."

Daerazal almost laughed. "A vampire _cat_?"

"In Akavir, tigers and cats have a soul-recalling hair in their tails that allows them to bring dead souls back to life ... some as vampires. Then the disease spreads to others from the souls who are cursed. Enough of the snake-men became infected that one day the beasts realized they outnumbered their masters. After the snake-men drank human blood in a magic ritual, some were able to take on two-legged forms. When this magic was learned, they rebelled against their overlords in great numbers. In some cities, their taste for revenge was so strong they devoured all human captives. But other snake-men learned from this mistake. The smarter Tsaesci lords kept their humans alive to breed them as cattle and slaves.

"You will not be in danger for having two legs during your travels. But you will be in great danger if they think you are spies or slaves. Once you get past the pirate cove, hide your faces well and try to behave like two-legged shape-shifters, instead. Because of their magic, shape-shifters are highly respected and not questioned."

Kielanai glanced toward her crew of elves and wondered how in the world they could pass themselves off as a two-legged snake-men. "Is Kuroi-Dokuga typical of the two-legged shape-shifters?"

"Yes, in both appearance and mannerisms." The Akaviri man helped his daughter sort the mushrooms. "My father had many bitter quarrels with Kuroi-Dokuga that ended in harsh punishment at first. But my father said that when I was born, he learned selflessness and patience. He did as he was told, so no harm would come to me. I learned the same values with you.

"When the pirates planned to journey to the western continent, my father asked that his family be allowed to go as servants. He secretly hoped we could escape to freedom in the new land, but when we arrived, Kuroi-Dokuga put us to work building his pirate base. The pirates outnumbered us, so we could not fight them. And Kuroi-Dokuga always kept someone from our family in the ship's brig to be sure that no one tried to escape."

Kielanai grabbed her alembic and some empty bottles from the shelves. "Sounds like another slave overseer I know." She glanced toward Daerazal, but did not mention him by name because she was unsure what kind of reaction her father would have if he knew of the Drow's past. Then, she paused and realized she was beginning to think just like Mairiel, worrying about what her father would think.

Daerazal kept silent on the matter and sat down on the bottom step of the ladder to quell his nausea.

"Your grandfather worked hard to gain Kuroi-Dokuga's trust, and eventually the pirate decided to use his human slave to spy on the Emperor himself. The pirates attacked Imperial vessels to make trouble on the Gold Coast, then released my father to run to the Emperor as an escaped prisoner offering help. The Emperor agreed to use him as a Blades agent, so Kuroi-Dokuga had no choice but to allow him the outward appearance of freedom on the island. But he still always kept one family member imprisoned."

Kielanai set her items on the table and frowned. "So ... you weren't really Blades, after all? You really were helping the pirates?"

Tatsuya sighed. "We were allied with the pirates pretending to be Blades, and then allied with the Blades pretending to be pirates. I can't blame the Blades if they did not feel they could trust us once they knew the truth. The Emperor promised us freedom as soon as the pirate ring could be crushed without provoking further attacks from Akavir. But whether he meant to keep his promise or not, no one could have protected us from the pirates' vengeance that night.

"Kuroi-Dokuga found out about my father's treachery and killed the member of our family held captive on this ship. Our hope of freedom had failed." He paused, but then smiled with pride. "Yet your mother still freed you, and you returned to us with the highest honor a servant of the Empire can earn—dragon armor. It is significant that a slave of Akaviri blood should wear it, I think."

Kielanai was quiet for a moment. She didn't realize she had been born a slave, too. The bard sat down in the chair at her desk and stared blankly at her collected ingredients. "Who was the family member held on the ship?" she quietly asked.

Tatsuya hesitated to answer. "At first, your grandmother was used to keep us from running."

Kielanai's face pinched in confusion. "But ... she lived on the island among us. She was always in her magic room studying these crystals."

Tatsuya nodded. "Because when you were born, she was given back to us. They took Kiumiko, instead." His expression changed to one of regret, and it became clear he was fighting his own emotions to admit it.

Kielanai had never heard that name before. "Kiumiko?"

"Your twin sister."

Kielanai stared at her father ... stunned. "I had a sister? A twin?"

Tatsuya drew a breath and tried to explain. "She was older by a few minutes. We named her for the spirit of the open sea and the freedom that we hoped to gain for her. But they took her from your mother's arms—a tiny baby, imprisoned in place of your grandmother. When you came, we named you Kielanai, in hopes that you would not also disappear."

"_Kieru … Kienai … Kie-ra-nai ..._" The bard had always thought her name was rather strange, but now she understood the eerie meaning hidden within the sounds.

"We were allowed to visit her, but we were afraid how you would react if you knew what was happening to her. Children's fears ... they complicate things. I'm sorry we never told you."

"Did she know about me?"

"The pirates spoke of you often to poison her mind against us. They told her we chose to keep you, and gave her away. They told her how you played in the sun and had sweets to eat. She grew jealous and accused us of hating her." Tatsuya bowed his head for a moment. It was a hard thing to discuss, even now. "We could not save her, but you have made a fitting memorial. This dark, lonely place below the sea is where she was kept. But you have turned it into a beautiful garden full of light and life."

The bard's jaw clenched in anger at the suffering her sister and grandmother must have gone through being confined to the Tsaesci ship. "Where is her spirit now?"

"She was killed in the _doujou_ ... before our eyes ... by Kuroi-Dokuga's hand. For a long time, her soul was bitter and vengeful in that place. She haunted the pirates and tried to harm them. When you killed them, your revenge silenced her. I don't know where her spirit resides now. I have not felt her presence since then. I pray she is finally at peace."

Kielanai couldn't blame her sister for hating her. Distraught at the news and cupping a hand to her mouth, the bard stood and rushed past everyone in the lower deck, nearly tripping over Talvalo's legs to climb up the ladder and excuse herself to the washroom.

))((

Tatsuya sighed heavily and sat down in the chair at Kielanai's desk. "_Gomennasai, minasan,_" he apologized to his daughter's crew mates for delivering such heavy news on top of such a heavy journey. Then the warrior wiped a hand over his own eyes to dry them. "_Gomennasai, Kiumiko,_" he apologized to his tortured child … wherever she was now.

))((

Time passed slowly for the crew of the _Crystal Maiden_. Without sunlight or moonlight to mark the passage of time, each day began to feel like the one before it. Daerazal complained that even the sunless depths of Menzoberranzan had the magic pillar Narbondel to track days, but this ship's only timepiece was a small hourglass meant for brewing potions and cooking.

Some days were just as stormy as the first; others were calm. But beyond the thick layer of mist above and below, nothing was revealed about any progress toward their destination.

Daerazal spent most of his time with Rindaalyn teaching him sword fighting techniques in the padded training room. Talvalo wasted many hours reading the books from the collection in the mid-deck hall and captain's cabin, while Tatsuya spent most of his time at the helm of the ship, seated in deep meditation. His memories of Akavir were what guided it.

During meals, Kielanai told her father all about her life growing up near Imperial City with Gwenyth. She also told him of her recent adventures with the Oblivion Crisis. Talvalo explained the Nerevarine Prophecy and why Chizrae's disappearance was more than a personal quest to find his wife. Then, Daerazal briefly explained the Llothain desire for revenge on her.

Kielanai thought of her sister every time she entered her magical garden in the lower deck—moreso because of the _mizuko_ writhing beneath the vessel. When the ride became bumpy, she sang songs to the lost children's souls, in hopes it would calm them ... in hopes that Kiumiko was not among them.

One day, Rindaalyn climbed down the ladder to the lower deck looking for the bard and found her in the narrow passage between the vegetable beds and the storage shelves. "Kielanai? Talvalo wants you to look at some ingredients upstairs before he decides to season a dish that he's making."

The bard set down her retort. "Dish? What dish?"

"Well, I told him it was stupid to waste fire salts on the potatoes, but he says he misses spicy foods."

"Fire salts! I'll admit Talvalo has learned to cast some powerful magic, but he has _not_ learned the delicate art of alchemy." The bard stood from her chair and pushed past him to hurry up the ladder.

Rindaalyn smirked and followed. He couldn't wait to remind the battlemage that he had told him so.

In the dining loft, Kielanai found the Altmer chopping onions, garlic, gensing, and arrowroot together. "_What_ are you doing?" she accused snatching the jar of fire salts and peeking inside. "These were very hard to come by. _Don't_ use them for cooking."

"Then _don't_ store them in the kitchen. Why do you think I sent Rin to ask about it?" He quirked a brow of irritation at her and returned to his chopping. "If you don't want my spiced potatoes, I'll give your portion of dinner to Daerazal. Or is it breakfast? I can't even keep track of meals anymore."

"Ugh, no." The Drow had one arm stretched across the tabletop and clutched at his stomach with the other. He was still feeling queasy thanks to the constant motion of the waves.

Talvalo stopped chopping and paused thoughtfully. "All I know is that I want food with a really spicy punch for a change."

"I'll give you a spicy punch if you use my alchemy ingredients for potatoes." She took the remaining gensing root as well.

"Why in the name of Azura would you keep them in the kitchen if you don't intend to eat them?"

"This is the only level with windows and direct heat. I keep them here so the sunlight and cooking fires dry them out."

"What sunlight? There's nothing out there but water vapor and slimy, ugly, little babies waiting to eat our souls if one of us happens to fall overboard."

"Don't call them that! My sister might be out there!" she angrily returned.

"The boiled potatoes are beginning to look like their empty little eye sockets, and I won't say what their empty little mouths remind me of," the battlemage continued to grouse.

Daerazal grunted in disgust and quickly let himself out the cabin door to be sick again.

Rindaalyn chuckled to himself as he strode toward Talvalo and opened his mouth.

"Shut up!" both of the other elves snapped at him before he could say anything.

))((

The Drow knew it was dangerous to be on the deck, but he headed to the rail and leaned over it, bowing his head into the crook of his arm. He hoped the little miscreants wouldn't surface to stare at him while he lost his breakfast. Dark elves weren't meant to live on oceans. That was all there was to it.

"The demons in these waters would probably frown upon you vomiting in their ethers again, Daerazal-kun." Settled on a pillow in the middle of the deck, Tatsuya opened his eyes.

"Better than facing Kielanai if I vomit all over her table," he weakly retorted.

Tatsuya laughed. "_Hai, wakarimashita, na. _Tempers grow short as days grow long." He rose and moved to the rail to stand beside Daerazal. "Kielanai's mother never liked it when I cleaned slaughterfish at her table. I used to leave the insides out because Kielanai liked playing in the leftovers. She was fascinated with fish intestines and heads. She used to poke the eyes inside-out to see what was behind them."

Feeling even more nauseated than before, Daerazal lifted his head to blink at the other warrior for a long, unsteady moment. "More than I wanted to know."

The Akaviri warrior chuckled. "I thought you might be interested to learn about her childhood."

The Drow put his head back down. "I'm only interested in her legs."

"_Oi_," Tatsuya unhappily warned again.

"Yeah, I know. She's your daughter; none of that," the Drow muttered.

Amused at the elf's seasick demeanor, Tatsuya leaned on the rail, too. "Kielanai thinks highly of you."

Daerazal snorted at the irony in that statement. "Your daughter thinks I'm a _baka ronin._"

Tatsuya laughed again. "Her mother used to call me such. She often told me my jokes were stupid, but she laughed anyway because she said they made her heart happy." He looked out over the endless stretch of gray, foggy nothingness. "The way Kielanai spoke of you when telling about the Oblivion Crisis, I could tell she has been trying to understand you for a long time. She may say you do foolish things, but she remains at your side because your foolishness makes her heart happy."

The Drow lifted his head and shifted his eyes toward the Akaviri human. "My foolishness?"

"Whatever that may be."

Daerazal turned his attention back to the mist. "So how did a human slave trapped on a pirate island manage to marry an Altmer elf?" he bluntly asked.

"Eilynae was taken from one of the Imperial ships the pirates sank. The Tscaeci imprisoned their captives with their slaves. Eilynae said she found comfort in my company." Tatsuya smiled at the memory of his wife, but then saddened and was quiet for a long moment. "She also said I looked like a _kawaii koinu_."

The Drow's eyes shifted toward the other warrior again. "_Ko-inu?_"

"Cute puppy." Tatsuya grinned to cheer himself, then quickly followed it with a hushed, stern tone. "But beware words like, '_kawaii koinu_'. If Kielanai uses these words, you don't listen, ne? These words mean she wants to do 'cute' things—like dress you in certain preferred clothing."

Daerazal's brow quirked in suspicion. "What about the word 'dapper'?"

The samurai sucked air through his teeth as he winced. "'_Dappa' ha kakko ii, na. Sou, sou, sou._ _Dame da,'" _he grumbled to himself. "Very bad word. That one is worse than 'cute'. That means she wants a high class lord—very _expensive_ word."

"And _uncomfortable,_" Daerazal agreed. "You can't walk because you've got a pair of hose all riding up your ass."

Tatsuya laughed and pulled the wide legs of his hakama tight to mimic the style he had seen worn among Tamriel's humans. "Like this?"

"And those stiff waistcoats …" Daerazal pulled his collar high around his neck, so that his shoulders hunched and his neck shrank. "Those were the most scratchy, god-awful—"

Kielanai chose that moment to step outside, but as she blinked at the two warriors in their odd postures, they snapped to attention and released their bunched clothing.

She held up a hand to shush them before they could explain. "Never mind. I don't want to know. I'll just ask the cult freak and the fireball chef to move the chest out of storage for me, instead." Turning around, she shut the door behind her.

))((

When the long voyage finally came to an end, Tatsuya called the crew together on the deck and gestured for his daughter to take the helm. "Remember, you must enter Akavir alone, but I am always with you in spirit."

Kielanai smiled. "_Doumo arigatougozaimashita_." She bowed respectfully for his aid, then gave him a heartfelt hug. "I'd like to ask one more favor, though ... if I may."

"If it is in my power to grant your wish, I will do what I can."

"Is it possible for you to sail the _Crystal Maiden_ back to Kojima and stand watch over her? I've changed my mind about taking her to the Tsaesci dock. I don't want the pirates to have her again."

This decision greatly concerned Tatsuya. "You will not be able to return home."

"It would be dangerous to come back this way, and we have other magic for our return. The ship would be abandoned at the pirate cove, and I wouldn't want grandmother and Kiumiko's memorial garden to fall into anyone else's hands."

The Akaviri warrior nodded in agreement with her sentiment.

"Bridge dead ahead!" Rindaalyn shouted and pointed from his perch in the crow's nest. Though it was difficult to tell the difference between where the impenetrable mist ended and the dark gray clouds began, they were approaching a red bridge similar to the one they left back in Tamriel.

"Are you ready?" Kielanai looked to Talvalo and Daerazal as the battlemage stepped up to the wheel to help steer the vessel toward the bridge.

"No," Daerazal answered, but he took the race generator from his pocket and slipped it over his neck anyway. He still wasn't comfortable with the transformation that took place, but he grasped a rope in his strong, green hands and lowered one of the skiffs.

"Well, at least you've got the grumpy mannerisms of an Orc down pat," Talvalo commented.

"That's _Captain Orc_, to you. And you look like you want to swab the deck." The Drow-Orc frowned with his threat.

"Is that a bit of lettuce between your teeth? Oh, my mistake. It's just your lips wagging between your horker tusks," the Altmer returned.

Kielanai looked up to the youth in the crow's nest. "Rindaalyn!" She gestured for him to come down.

The scout descended the mast with agile ease to join them on the deck.

"Did you have the other amulet we talked about?" she asked of the Drow-Orc.

Daerazal reached into his pocket and pulled out a second charm.

"What's that?" Rindaalyn asked.

"Chizrae's language amulet. You'll need it to explain who we are." Daerazal draped the chain of the necklace over Rindaalyn's head.

"_Onamae ha nan desu ka?_" Kielanai asked the Ashlander.

Rindaalyn was astonished that he understood her perfectly and lifted the sapphire between his fingers to see that it was enchanted. "_Rindaalyn desu_," he answered with ease as the words shaped themselves in his mind.

"_Ii yo._" Kielanai smiled. "The grandson of a Tsaesci pirate needs no disguise. You will be our translator from Kuroi-Dokuga's crew."

His brows rose with concern. "_Demo, watashi ha Danmaa desu._"

"_Daijoubu da yo_," she assured him and then looked to Talvalo. "_Anata ha?_"

"Hm?"

"You're going to be an Orc disguised as an elf, remember? We talked about this. You need to make sure your fake race amulet is visible in case anyone doubts whether you are under an enchantment."

"Oh. Yes, actually I was thinking I'm more suited to playing a Nord than an Orc." The Altmer removed his jeweled hair clasp and bent over to shake out his long, auburn hair in a wild manner. Then, he straightened and removed his mage robe, shirt, and rings, tucking everything into his travel bag, so the magical glow of the calming charm was in plain view at his throat, as was the wolf skull and crossbones tattooed on his shoulder.

Kielanai had not expected that much of a strip-down. "We ... only needed to see the charm."

He pointed to his tattoo. "This is from the _Sea Wolf—_the ship I was on in Solstheim," he reminded her. "I'll look more like a Nord barbarian if they can see this."

"No, you still look like a weak-ass Atlmer mage," the Drow-Orc impatiently gruffed.

Though his expression registered no emotion, the battlemage lifted a hand to display sparks jumping from his finger tips, then touched the Drow-Orc's arm sending a jolt through his system.

"_Iblith! Nindel jivviim, dos mal'ai!_" Daerazal pounded a heavy, green fist into the mage's chest, then glowered at him as he rubbed away the tingling pain in his arm.

"That's more like it. Just be yourselves, and pretending we're a bunch of thugs should be a cinch." Kielanai rolled her eyes and went to dig through her pack for her own disguise. She fastened her water-walking amulet around her neck, thinking it was the most practical. "Ta-daa! I'll be the Orc-Altmer, then."

"Kielanai ..." Talvalo left the irritated Drow-Orc's side to crouch next to her. "I don't mean to intrude upon your ingeniously diabolical plan to fool the Tsaesci pirates, but ... why would an Orc crew be disguised as elves while the captain remains an Orc? Are you sure about this?"

"Like I said before, if you have a better idea, let's hear it."

"Invisibility," he answered in one succinct word.

Kielanai was quiet for a moment and considered how Daerazal used the Chameleon potions to wade through the entire Mythic Dawn Cult. Perhaps Talvalo was right. She was certain she could act the part of a female Orc, but she had her doubts about whether the other gold elf could convince anyone he was really a Nord. "Okay, scrap the fake amulets idea, but hold that thought."

Without delay, she hurried back into the cabin and down to her alchemy lab to check her potions. She had no idea how much they would need, so she grabbed them all and tucked them into her pack. Back up on the deck, she divided them equally between herself and Talvalo.

"What about us?" Daerazal complained, watching the battlemage get half of the bottles.

"I don't have enough for everyone to remain unseen for a long time. You and Rindaalyn look enough like a real Orc and Tsaesci to keep up your pretenses. Talvalo and I will silently follow until we're beyond the cove. That should at least get us past the thick of it."

Daerazal was still doubtful. "So a lone Orc and his Dunmer-Tsaesci translator show up in the middle of the ocean on a rowboat at a Tsaesci pirate cove because ..."

"You'll think of something," she patted his big shoulders with confidence. "And if you get in trouble, we'll have your backs."

"Kielanai," Tatsuya spoke as his daughter started to follow the Drow-Orc down the side of the ship into the skiff. "_Ki wo tsukete, ne._"

She knew that telling her to take care, probably only made him realize how helpless he was to make the rest of the journey safe for her. "_Un. Jaa ne,_" she smiled, kissed his cheek, and hugged him once more before climbing down the rope ladder.

Kielanai and Talvalo settled on the center floor of the small boat while Daerazal and Rindaalyn took the seats. Daerazal, being the bigger of the two, took the oars. Kielanai knew better than to look down into the sea of vengeful spirits, but she did it anyway and spotted the face of a _mizuko_ staring back at her from beneath the vapor-laden waters. The bard immediately tore her gaze away to watch her father pull up the skiff ropes and anchor.

He waved goodbye, then both he and the ship faded into the thick mists. Or at least that's what she thought was happening. The mists around them had actually begun to thin and meld with real waves. The large, invisible snake form that sucked them into the void appeared once more to spit them back into the mortal realm.

Within minutes, they found themselves tossed about on a choppy expanse of sea under a stormy downpour. Kielanai looked nervously at the unstable, dark water beneath them. Her father had told her tales about what kinds of fish lurked in Akaviri waters—sharks, giant squid, octopus ... whales. Trying not to think about them, she lifted her eyes to the distant shore that awaited them.

The evergreen trees along the rocky beach reached long, twisted branches east and west instead of high into the sky. Arched rocks twisted and looped in unusual shapes, too. Large blackbirds with strange, loud caws flew in the rain overhead as they searched for fish to scavenge near the docks. The realization that she was finally approaching the land of her ancestors began to bubble her blood with effervescent excitement, but Kielanai had to remind herself this place was not like her island home. She was a stranger to these shores, and her arrival would draw more weapons than welcomes.

The Akaviri pirate boats in the cove bore a resemblance to large boxes on a long hull. The docks were roped off by floating glass balls that marked the areas for ships to stay away from. Beyond the docks, the buildings of the pirate cove had colorful corrugated, tile roofs, slanting at asymmetrical angles and turning up around the corners just like the _minka_ and main estate on Kojima.

"I think it's time," Talvalo broke the uncanny silence and lifted a bottle of Chameleon potion.

Kielanai nodded and pulled a bottle from her own bag. Tapping his in mock toast, both of them drank it down and faded from view. "Don't drink the next one until we're on shore," she reminded him.

"Right," he agreed. "We'll meet you two at the end of the dock," he told Daerazal and Rindaalyn.

))((

Though the _Crystal Maiden_ remained hidden within the mists of the _mononoke hashi_, the skiff was quickly spotted by the Tsaesci pirates loading and unloading cargo. In response, their serpentine bodies slithered across the pier with speed and ease to block the two-legged passengers from docking. "_Dare?_" one of them demanded, drawing the long, black katana strapped to his back.

Though he couldn't see her, Rindaalyn felt Kielanai's eyes on him, so he stood to translate for Daerazal. "He wants to know who we are."

"Urgog ma-Bol," Daerazal introduced himself, providing the cold stare and impersonal snarls necessary to hold up his Orc act. "I was on my way to help the Nords of Solstheim attack ships coming out of Morrowind, when I met a Tsaesci pirate named Kuroi-Dokuga. He said the Tsaesci of Sassubaa were planning to invade Morrowind soon … found a new way to breech the border from within." He gave a sly grin that displayed his sharp tusks. "I want a piece of the action, or my contacts in Skyrim and Solstheim might be tempted to dump this news in the Empire's lap just in time to warn them."

At the mention of Kuroi-Dokuga's name, the Tsaesci began hissing and whispering between themselves. Then, one of them faced the Orc again. "_Kuroi-Dokuga no fune ha doko?_"

Rindaalyn hesitated, then faced his captain. "They want to know where his ship is."

"He's taking it back to Anvil," Daerazal answered in annoyance. "If his fleet attacks from the south, the Nords attack from the north, and someone in Sassubaa knows of a way to aim straight for the heart, Morrowind's isolation and removal from the Empire can happen in no time flat. Leave Morrowind for the northern pact ... you get the rest," he proposed.

The Dunmer scout turned to translate for the Tsaesci pirates. Though they glared menacingly at him as he spoke, he couldn't help but be fascinated by their slender, flexible forms.

"Well, can we dock here, or can't we? This damn rain is going to wash us away if we sit in it too much longer," the Drow-Orc complained. "Ask 'em where Sassubaa is," he demanded.

Rindaalyn was beginning to dislike taking orders, but he continued his translation efforts without remarks about it. "_Sassubaa ha doko desu ka?_"

"_Kouzo ... anta ha harufu Tsaesci?_"

Rindaalyn was cautious at the unexpected question. "_Hai_, half-Tsaesci." He was only one-quarter Tsaesci, but with his golden snake-eyes and long, thin fangs, the pirates had no way of knowing that.

"_Okaasan, daaku erufu? Morowindo kara?_"

"Yes ... my mother was a dark elf from Morrowind," the youth confirmed with a nod.

"_Omoshiroi, na?_" The Tsaesci chuckled in a lewd manner amongst themselves. "_Kuroi-Dokuga no musuko-san?_"

Rindaalyn frowned. "I am _not—_tch!" He felt a sharp pinch on the back of his arm from the invisible bard. "_Hai, musuko desu,_" he begrudgingly corrected. He had to endure whispered comments and hisses of laughter about Kuroi-Dokuga bedding his dark elven mother. But once they decided that the son of the pirate king was a worthy guest, the Tsaesci blocking them slithered to one side and lowered his weapon to let them dock their skiff and pass.

"_Koko kara_ _Sassubaa ha kita da,_" the snake man directed. "_Ano michi, massugu ike._"

Rindaalyn faced Daerazal. "He said Sassubaa is north from here. Take that road and go straight. I guess he means the north road out of the cove."

))((

Kielanai felt Talvalo tap her arm just before he slipped over the side of the boat into the water. When she saw the slight silhouette of his body in the ripples, she hesitated, but then grabbed her pack and joined him. The water was bitter-cold and blinding-dark, so she clasped a hand to her water-walking amulet and reached for Talvalo's unseen hand. The magic of the amulet lifted both of them to the surface of the water, so they could walk on the surface of the waves around the crowded pier toward the sandy shore, still trying to avoid notice.

))((

The stormy weather was wearing down the water-logged crew of the departed _Crystal Maiden_ and the snake-men, as well. So, they seemed relieved when Rindaalyn had no further questions.

The Dunmer-Tsaesci and the Drow-Orc climbed out of the skiff. Rindaalyn glanced behind them, but couldn't tell if their invisible companions were no longer there. "_Doumo arigatougozaimsu_," Rindaalyn gave a bow and walked through the gathering snake-men to the other end of the pier.

"Kielanai? Talvalo?" Daerazal asked under his breath once they were well beyond the pirates.

"I didn't see them leave the skiff," Rindaalyn answered when no one else did, but then he nearly jumped out of his skin as a cold, wet, unseen arm slipped around his.

"We're here," Kielanai whispered.

The youth tried hard to regain his composure. "Don't don't that!" he hissed through clenched teeth. He could hear the bard chuckling to herself at his side.

"We should find a place to wait until nightfall," Talvalo suggested from behind him.

"_Sore ha yokatta ne, Rin-kun_," the bard playfully complimented the youth's efforts and tousled his copper hair.

The elves walked away from the encounter unscathed and picked up the pace to hurry through the downpour toward the large gateway that they could see above the other buildings. It was tempting to find some place in the town to wait out the rain, but better judgment kept them moving.

Outside the pirate cove, waves crashed brutally into the large rocks that lined the shore, but the elves eventually found a seashore cavern that wasn't flooded from the incoming storm tide. The cavern was cold and damp like the land beyond, but at least it offered temporary shelter. Pink flowers with large, open petals grew here among the patches of tall grass, so Kielanai excused herself from the company of her friends to pick one and take it to the water's edge. There, she became visible as she set it adrift on the choppy waves and bowed to say a prayer.

"What in the world she doing?" Talvalo asked, teeth chattering, as he also became visible once more and pulled a dry shirt from his pack.

"She's going to get washed out to sea." Rindaalyn dropped the damp kindling he'd been gathering along the way, then dropped to a cross-legged position on the ground. Huddling close to the pile, he tried to cast one of the few spells he knew to ignite a small campfire.

"She's asking her sister to forgive her, so they can both be at peace." The Drow-Orc removed his race enchantment so he could be just an ordinary Drow once more.

Rindaalyn frowned thoughtfully to himself, then fanned his flames to feed them. Maybe someday they could do something like that for Tatsuya and his own ancestor guardian … supposing he ever found out who he was.


	23. Chapter 23: The Art of Illusion

Chapter 23: The Art of Illusion

It rained all day, leaving the dirt road out of the pirate town pitted with large mud puddles. By dusk, Kielanai gave up on the weather showing any signs of clearing. She sent Rindaalyn and Daerazal in their disguises back into the pirate town to find something called _sumi_ from an alchemy store, as well as some local clothing.

When the pair returned, Daerazal passed around some dumplings on a stick, then passed the other items wrapped in paper to the bard. "I changed some of our gems into coins and bought some hot food. The _sumi_ was easy to find, but there was more than one kind so I got one of each. The clothing was harder to come by. Apparently clothing is only for slaves and two-legged sorcerers. Guess which ones were more expensive."

Kielanai spread the paper packages before her and lifted each one to read the writing before making her selection. "I hope you didn't choose the cheaper ones, if we are to pass ourselves off as sorcerers, rather than slaves."

Daerazal removed the charmed amulet at his throat and dropped it in front of her, relieved to be done with looking like an Orc for the sake of errands. "What is that stuff anyway?" He sat down next to her and bit into his dumplings-on-a-stick before offering her one.

"Ink made with bamboo soot and fish bones, but some of them add oil. It won't wash off so easily. This one." She grinned and held up the winner. Then, pulling the offered dumpling near, she bit one off of the stick, but let him continue holding the rest so she could go look for stones near the cavern's entrance.

The Drow looked down at the unfinished dumpling-stick he was stuck holding, then continued eating his own serving. "So, you're going to paint scales on us?"

"No, I'm going to paint snakes on you. Kuroi-Dokuga had magical tattoos over his chest and arms. He is our best example of a two-legged sorcerer, so we will make ourselves look like him."

"They won't glow with magic and move the way his did."

"Light spell ... Telekinesis spell ... Ink can be manipulated like any other object, right? There must be some way to do it for short term impression if necessary. Meanwhile, just seeing the tattoos could help ward off questions, don't you think?"

"I never thought I'd see the day when I would be glad for the way that I look." Rindaalyn tasted his food and held up a_ hakama_ to figure out how to wear it. "When they saw my face, they didn't seem to care about me having legs."

Talvalo licked his fingers after pushing one of the dumplings higher on the stick. "I think they were too caught up gloating over Kuroi-Dokuga's possible conquest of an elf. They certainly seemed impressed when they thought he got together with your mother, eh?" The battlemage wriggled his brows teasingly.

Rindaalyn frowned and used his fangs to slip his remaining dumpling from the stick before flicking it at the high elf in mild retaliation. "Having to keep up the pretense that he is my father sickens me."

"You can't blame them for thinking elves are exotic, though. They're stuck with snake-women." Talvalo paused for a moment. "How does that even work? I mean they don't seem properly equipped for that sort of thing, do they."

Rindaalyn shrugged. "They must have some way of doing it, or they wouldn't be here."

"All I know is Drow do it better." Daerazal shifted his seated position and slouched against the wall.

Talvalo gave the dark warrior a flat expression for the comment. "You know, considering what that implies, I don't want to know how you came to that conclusion."

"Considering you married my sister, I don't think you're in a position to argue." The Drow returned a superior side-glance.

Kielanai rolled her eyes at the entire conversation, dusted off two stones and returned to their circle by the fire. "I'm so sorry you have to pretend at relations, Rin-kun, but it does give you an advantage the rest of us don't have." The bard sympathized with the youth, then opened the _sumi_ package to pull out a black stick, which she carefully placed on the larger of the flat stones. "You probably don't even need to look tattooed."

Rindaalyn swallowed his last mouthful and watched the bard as she dripped a handful of collected rainwater over the end of the stick and began to grind it. "Doesn't it bother you that I'm one of them? After everything they did to your family?"

"You're not one of them. You're uniquely you. And you are helping to put things right, ne? You have already been instrumental in helping me speak to my father's spirit, for which I am grateful. I wouldn't have been able to do that without you."

"My grandfather was probably like them, though."

"You don't know that." As she ground the stick into a blue-black, rainwater stain on the stone, the soft scraping sound and circular motions had a calming effect on her mind. "Either way, you are not your grandfather."

"I'm more accepted here than in Morrowind," he pointed out, sad at his own irony.

"Passing yourself off as the son of a Tsaesci pirate doesn't mean you are accepted. If they were to find out you lied, they would probably be very unforgiving."

"This is delicious," Talvalo interrupted, indicating the dumplings. "What is this?"

Daerazal scratched his head trying to remember what it was called. "_Tako ... yaki_?"

"Fried octopus," Kielanai translated.

Talvalo nearly choked on his last bite before grabbing his wineskin to wash it down. "I've seen those creatures illustrated in books; they don't look very appetizing. And I don't recall them having anything that looks like dumplings," he coughed. "What parts did I just eat?"

"It's the tentacles … chopped, mixed in a batter, and fried. My grandmother used to make them as a special treat. Nothing like that swims in the Abescean Sea near Anvil, so I guess Kuroi-Dokuga must have continued to get supplies from Akavir through the spirit bridge."

Completely unbothered by the chewy treat, Daerazal watched his brother-in-law make a terrible face. "Chizrae hasn't prepared any traditional Drow meals for you, has she," he guessed.

"She made me eat squid soup once, but I think it was a water dreugh in disguise."

"Too bad she couldn't offer you raw rothe."

"Rothe?" Rindaalyn questioned.

"It's a shaggy-haired bovine herded in the Underdark. Most Drow eat their meat raw because of the problems with starting fires in caverns."

Talvalo made a face again. "Yes, she told me that right after slicing into a nix-hound and popping the raw meat straight into her mouth. Or was it a rat? I don't remember. Took courage to kiss her after that, believe me."

"Ah, but you _did_ kiss her." Daerazal hooked an arm behind Talvalo's neck to gloat with told-you-so satisfaction. "Because nobody does it better than a Drow."

Talvalo shoved him away.

Rindaalyn laughed at their exchange as the other dark elf chuckled to himself and slouched back against the wall.

Kielanai couldn't help but smile at Daerazal's teasing, either. Laughter was much-needed after such a long, grueling voyage through the sea of vengeful spirits. When she finished grinding her ink, she took her brush from her travel pack. "Okay, who's first?"

"Drowboy." The battlemage thumbed toward the warrior. "And be sure to paint a couple of those snakes in obscene postures to help him attract a female Tsaesci, so he can tell us how snakes manage."

"As tempting as that sounds, I'll pass." Daerazal drew in his knees to rest his elbows on them and offered Kielanai her own _takoyaki_ once more. "Besides, your ink won't show up on me."

Kielanai pouted slightly realizing she hadn't considered her _sumi_ was the same rich color as the Drow's skin tone. The discouragement only lasted until she spotted the race amulet on the sandy ground near her feet. "If we can't change the ink, we'll change the canvas." Snatching it up, she pulled the pouch of other race charms from her pack.

"Ah, not again. I hate being an Orc, and there is nothing in that bag that will make me look Tsaesci."

"Tsaesci are tall and golden like Altmer. There should be an Altmer charm in here somewhere."

"Aww, I was kind of hoping we could turn him into an Argonian next," Talvalo commented.

"A-ha!" She grinned as she found the Altmer charm and snapped it into the amulet.

"You're not turning me into an Argonian—or an Altmer. This is not a game of Mutate the Drow." Daerazal started to move away from her.

Talvalo set his hands on his brother-in-law's shoulders to pull him back and pin him firmly in place. "But we'll actually look like brothers for once. Won't that be fun?"

"I have no desire to look like you."

"Well, it doesn't matter what you desire because we need you to look tall and golden—like a Tsaesci sorcerer. Be thankful she's not turning your legs into a scaly tail."

Kielanai draped the new charm over Daerazal's neck.

He growled in protest and started to remove the enchanted charm, but the transformation had already begun, and he found himself just as mesmerized by the changes as everyone else. A magical glow spread over his body, lightening his skin to a dark, golden tan. His fingers and limbs lengthened as height without muscular bulk was added to his slender stature. His white hair didn't change because it was already a tone naturally suited to high elves, but his crimson eyes became deep green, like emeralds. When the transformation was complete, he looked up to find all three of his companions stunned at the results. He touched his face, but this time it didn't feel any different. "How bad is it?"

"Wow, Daerazal," Rindaalyn spoke. "You look like a natural as a gold elf."

"Kielanai certainly seems to think it looks good on you," Talvalo added, humored.

"What?" She hadn't realized she'd been gawking, but gave Talvalo's shoulder a smack as soon as she snapped out of her daze. "He's tall and golden. That's all we need." Lowering her gaze, she quickly stirred her ink again.

Sighing in resignation, Daerazal cast his finished dumpling stick aside and transferred the other one between his teeth so he could remove his armor and shirt. "Fine, draw the damn snakes. But don't you _dare_ let him magic them to crawl around on me." Scooting around to turn his back to her, he started to eat Kielanai's octopus dumplings in addition to his own.

"It's just ink," Talvalo answered the accusation. "It's not like I could make them bite you or anything. You probably wouldn't even feel them sliding and slithering around your ribs."

The bard touched the brush to the Drow-Altmer's back and drew a curving line.

The combination of the battlemage's claim and the cold, wet bristles, caused Daerazal to involuntarily shudder and jerk away from her. "Not there!" He tried to reach for and rub away the weird sensation.

Kielanai blinked in dismay for a moment, but then tried not to look as amused as she was. "If you're ticklish, I can temporarily paralyze the area I paint."

The rogue warrior snorted at the ludicrous suggestion. "I am _not_ ticklish."

"Well, then I have to paint Kuroi-Dokuga's snakes the way I remember them. And they coiled around his entire torso and arms, so hold still, or they won't look like proper snakes." She touched the brush to his back once more, but he jerked away again. Kielanai looked to Talvalo and sighed in exasperation.

"Want me to knock him out for you? I know a spell that can do that," the battlemage happily offered.

"You seem very eager to do this. Why don't you go first," the warrior argued.

Talvalo winced. "Must you be a baby about it? She's using a brush, not needles."

"Then you go first," Daerazal repeated his challenge.

Talvalo sighed, pushed his brother-in-law out of the way, and removed his shirt as he turned his back to the bard. "Draw to your heart's content, my dear. Throw in a few tigers and dragons while you're at it. Let them know I am _not_ to be trifled with." He chuckled wickedly to himself at how powerful the new designs might make him look. But as soon as the wet brush trailed a line down his back, the battlemage also involuntarily jerked away. "Damn that's cold!" he protested with surprise.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Irritated at the delays, the bard pulled the battlemage back in front of her. "It's going to be dark soon, and we can't leave the cave until this is done."

"Yeah, she's using a brush, not needles," Daerazal echoed.

Rindaalyn chuckled as he warmed himself by the fire.

Talvalo sat back on his heels and spread his fingers over his knees. "You know, not to be rude, Kielanai, but ... how do you fit into this? Are you going to paint yourself, too?"

The bard set to work once again and tried to keep her lines straight in spite of his occasional spasms and twitches. "Of course."

"You won't be able to reach your own back," Daerazal noted.

"You know, I didn't see any two-legged females among the Tsaesci who attacked us," Rindaalyn spoke. "What if there aren't any? What if two legs is a male trait, like how all daedric spiders are female?"

Kielanai stopped painting. She hadn't considered that before, either, but it was a real possibility.

"The kid's right. The wrong assumptions could get us killed." Daerazal reached for the pile of clothing and grabbed a kimono to place in her lap. "You might have to dress as a slave, instead of a sorcerer."

The bard frowned. "I don't want to dress as a slave. My family left this country to escape being—"

"It's insulting. I know. But you're a bard. Treat it like you would any other performance."

Kielanai slowly drew the kimono fabric into a fist and met his new emerald eyes with an unhappy expression. She looked to Talvalo and Rindaalyn to help her argue against it, but they seemed to be in agreement with him.

"It's this, or Talvalo gets to paint obscene snakes all over you," Daerazal offered as the alternative.

The Altmer battlemage looked over his shoulder at her and wriggled his brows as if he already had several obscene postures in mind for his snake designs.

The bard scowled and dropped her brush to snatch up the rest of the kimono. Marching to the back of the cavern, she found a place in the shadows to change.

))((

By moonrise, the group of elves came out of their seaside cavern, ready to begin their journey through Akavir. The three male elves dressed in indigo and black _hakama_, but had to forgo any armor or clothing on their upper torsos in order for the intricately drawn snakes on their arms and chests to be easily seen. Talvalo and Daerazal pulled the hoods of their cloaks low to cover their elven faces and stayed to the rear of their walking formation. Only Rindaalyn could lead the party and speak directly to anyone they encountered. Kielanai dressed in a simple kimono and wooden _geta_ and was careful to walk between the three of them, as if they were keeping an eye on a slave that belonged to them.

They dared to take the open road, so Kielanai could read street signs. Their route meandered in a generally northward direction between patches of dark evergreen forests and lush rice fields—landscape that would have been pretty in the light of day. It rained through the night as much as it had during the day, but the group made a good effort at plodding deep into the countryside before discomfort and hunger finally caught up to them.

Unanimously, they voted to detour through the gateway of a small inland town on the edge of a rocky river gorge. In the village, they followed the paper lanterns swaying in the storm, down the main road toward the center of the community.

"_Samui_," Kielanai muttered through chattering teeth. "How can it be this cold during summer?"

"The elevation has risen." Rindaalyn shared his observation about the land as he shuddered beneath his cloak. "And, because of the storm, there was no sun to warm the air yesterday. So, now there is no sun to warm the air during the night."

"But we're heading toward a desert. It's supposed to be hot." Though the puddles in the unpaved road looked rather shallow on the surface, nearly all of them turned out to be ankle-deep, turning the _click-clack_ of her wooden sandals into a sloshing sound every few minutes. "What is the point of having raised shoes if they're not high enough to keep your feet dry?" she grumbled.

"That probably works best if you walk _around_ the puddles," Talvalo suggested.

"Well, if I wasn't sandwiched between the three of you, maybe I _could_ walk around them, instead of having to go _through_ them."

"It must have already been raining for days," Rindaalyn answered as he stepped in a puddle, too.

Kielanai sighed. "Surane said the weather here was bad enough to drown the Imperial Far East Fleet. I'm beginning to understand why."

"Do any of these signs indicate an inn?" Talvalo asked, looking along the darkened rows of close-quarter, wood-latticed buildings.

Kielanai scanned the Akaviri script on the long canvas banners being blown by the wind. One of them made her squeak with delight. Forgetting her guarded position, she ran under the sloping eave and onto the raised walkway.

Rindaalyn exchanged uncertain glances with the other two elves, but followed.

"Okay, this isn't an inn," she explained in a low voice. "It's an _onsen_, but—"

"What's an _onsen_?" Daerazal interrupted.

"A bath house."

"Why the hell are we going to a bath house? I have enough water in my ears to last through next week," the Drow-Altmer complained.

"_Ma, ma. Onsen ha ii desu ne._" She grinned. "There is an _onsen_ behind my grandfather's house on Kojima, and it is wonderful. A few minutes in a hot bath to warm us, and we will feel refreshed enough to keep walking until sunrise."

"What?" Daerazal protested with a hiss. "Now we're sidetracking to bath-houses?"

"Trust me. This stop will be worth it." Pleased with her find, Kielanai opened the sliding bamboo door to step inside.

The snake-man on night watch, reading behind the counter, looked up with suspicion.

"_Konbanha_," she greeted with a deep bow, then held up four fingers on one hand and four coins in another. "_Yo nin ... onegaishimasu._"

The snake-man accepted the bard's offered coins and gave her three towels. "_Douzo_," he hissed, not truly wanting to invite them into his business.

"_Doumo arigatougozaimasu, demo ..._" Kielanai counted the towels. "_Tada san?_"

"_San nin wo miteiru_," he countered, holding up three fingers. Apparently slaves weren't allowed in such places, or they weren't considered persons at all. He started to reach for the bard's hood to get a good look at her face to prove his point.

Rindaalyn intercepted the move by snatching the man's wrist and drawing back his own hood to show his Dunmer-Tsaesci features. "_Yo nin ... taoru wo yon mai_," he insisted and took a fourth towel from the Tsaesci. "_Shitsureshimasu._"

The two stared hard at each other for a moment, but then the Tsaesci took notice of the two men standing behind him—tall, golden-skinned men with black-line snakes and arcane symbols on their arms and chests.

When Rindaalyn released the man's arm, he bowed slightly. Then he, Daerazal, and Talvalo followed Kielanai through another sliding door into a long latticed walkway.

"Thank you," Kielanai whispered. "But it's probably best to not defend me like that in the future. If we travel as three people and one slave, then those are the roles me must play." She passed three of the towels to the other elves, then directed their attention to the characters on the doors. "That bath is for men, and this bath is for women. We should meet back out here in a few minutes." Then, with a sad smile, she left them and disappeared behind the steamy door marked for women only.

Talvalo unfolded his small towel. "This barely looks big enough to blow my nose on."

"This is a waste of time." Daerazal took Rindaalyn's towel and passed it, along with his, into Talvalo's arms. "Tell her we'll be back when we find an inn," he groused and grabbed Rindaalyn's wrist to leave.

"Actually," Rindaalyn said as he resisted Daerazal's pull, "I think I'd rather have the hot bath."

"These ink drawings and hoods won't fool anyone in broad daylight. We need to have a room at an inn before sunrise. And you need to translate for me since—"

"Oh no!" Talvalo looked down at his hands. They seemed to be blistering under some kind of invisible force. "No, no, no!" Tucking the towels under his arm, he reached for one of the papered window panels and slid it open to look up at the cloudy night sky. "What phase is Masser?"

Daerazal glowered at the back of the battlemage's head. "You _can't_ be serious."

"I must have escaped the change in the mists because there was no moon; but now that we're back on land, it's catching up to me." Talvalo whirled to face them. "I have to hide somewhere!" The battlemage winced in pain, hurried to the door that Kielanai had taken, and poked his head in. "Kielanai!" he hissed in desperation.

"Talvalo! Get out! This is the women's side!" Kielanai fussed from within.

"I need to hide!"

"What!"

Rindaalyn and Daerazal pushed their way into the steamy room to pull him back, but stopped in their tracks like a couple of stunned deer caught in a bright lights as the naked bard tried to cover herself with her tiny towel and reached for her clothes.

Daerazal grinned. "I'll bet if you took that act to a tavern, the Orcs would pay twice the coin."

"_SHITSURE NE! BAKA NA RONIN!_" She pitched one of her wooden shoes at him.

Daerazal dodged the missile. "See, told you she threw things when she used those words," he muttered to the scout, before the second _geta_ thunked against his head. "Ah! Okay, that one hurt." He winced and rubbed the spot where it hit.

"Sorry! We couldn't—" Rindaalyn caught a face-full of Kielanai's pitched kimono.

"Get out!" She fussed and ran into the water, hunkering down into it at chin-level.

"Alright! Alright! We're going!" Removing the kimono from his head, Rindaalyn grabbed Talvalo's arm and tugged him toward the door.

Talvalo's condition, however, would not be deterred by flying _geta_. His muscles spasmed in painful contractions. His bones began to twist and realign themselves. "No! NO! Shut the door! SHUT THE DOOR!" he growled to the youth.

Stunned by both Kielanai's nearly revealing strip show and Talvalo's unfortunate freak show, Rindaalyn pulled himself together just in time to slam the sliding door shut with all four of them inside the room with the steamy bath.

While Kielanai watched from her horrified huddle in the water, and Rindaalyn looked on with utter fascination, Talvalo's body continued to shift into the form of his lupine curse. His facial bones lengthened and realigned, while his legs disjointed in ways unnatural for most two-legged beings to bend. His spine stretched into a tail, while fur, claws, and sharp canine teeth appeared. He howled in pain as the agonizing transition continued, but in the end, a large, white werewolf was left panting through the final surges of pain.

Daerazal was the only one in their present company who was used to witnessing the horrible mutation. "It's okay," he reassured them. "He's still wearing the calming charm. He won't hurt you."

The werewolf shook out his thick white fur before straightening and looking to his companions with deepest apologies for his bad timing. Looking more guilty than fierce, he turned to Daerazal and gestured with a series of hand motions that made no sense to Rindaalyn and Kielanai.

Daerazal sighed and responded with the same fluid gestures.

"A silent language?" Rindaalyn asked. He'd never seen such a thing.

"He can't speak in wolf form, so Chizrae taught him Drow hand-sign. He says he's sorry to barge in on you, but he had to hide," the Drow-Altmer explained.

The werewolf snarled and did a few more hand gestures in communication.

Daerazal nodded in agreement with him and then faced Kielanai. "He'll need to stay with you until Rindaalyn and I find an inn. We'll come back for you here."

"But ... I don't want him to stay with me," she protested.

"Well, he can't stay by himself, now can he? That Tsaesci out there was suspicious of us the minute we walked in the door. Now we're missing a sorcerer, but we've gained a werewolf. Think he won't notice?"

"As a sorcerer he's supposed to shift shapes."

"Into a snake, not a wolf … unless you happen to know if other shapes are possible."

Rindaalyn wasn't sure leaving a werewolf alone the bard was a good idea, but as the Drow-Altmer reopened the door, the Dunmer-Tsaesci led the way back out.

))((

Kielanai pouted unhappily as Talvalo lifted his shed clothing from the ground and stuffed them into his travel pack. Then, she watched the door slide shut behind Daerazal and Rindaalyn as they went in search of an inn. Her attention went back to the werewolf, who endured a few more minutes of pain to shape-shift further into a normal, quadri-ped wolf. Sitting at the edge of the water with his tongue hanging out, he almost looked like a very large, white dog.

"Well, don't just sit there. Get me another towel," she snapped.

The wolf trotted to the strewn items she had thrown at them and recovered his own dropped towel in his teeth to bring it to her at the side of the steamy pool. Snatching it from him, she neatly folded it to rest on the top of her head where it would stay dry as she crawled away from the steps—and him—into the deeper sitting area. Then, groaning at her ill luck, the bard sank further under the hot water, stopping just short of her nose, to brood.

Talvalo whimpered and dipped a paw in the water to test its warmth.

"Don't even think about it," she warned.

))((

The escape from the _onsen_ about an hour later was not so easily done. Dressed in her kimono once more, Kielanai had to help Rindaalyn lift and push Talvalo through the window where Daerazal waited outside to catch him. The werewolf's quad-form was smaller than his were-form, but his weight was still enough to topple the Drow-Altmer flat on his back in the shrubs.

After Talvalo disappeared with a loud "oof", Kielanai peered through the window wondering where they went. "Talvalo? Daerazal? _Daijou ka?_" She looked down and saw the wolf walking away unharmed while the warrior was left wincing at the pain in his back.

"_Daijou, daijou_ ..." he grumbled and waved. "Meet us at the front. _Waele t'zarreth m'elzar ... _Stupid ass were-mage ..." he continued to grumble about Talvalo's inconvenient timing.

Kielanai nodded and closed the window. Then, she and Rindaalyn cloaked themselves once more and left the _onsen_ under the watchful eye of the Tsaesci attendant. From there, the two Tsaesci sorcerers and their servant and large dog hurried down the road to the next village, where Rindaalyn had found an available room at an inn for them.

The Tsaesci owner, did not question the sorcerers and their slave, but this time service was refused to their dog. So, the elves had to endure the same process of smuggling Talvalo back through a window before sunrise.

The weary elves slept soundly throughout the rest of the next day. But when evening came, and the sun dipped behind the horizon once more, they had to push the wolf through the window again and continue their journey.

The rain had stopped, but the roads were still muddy and the air was still cold. Moonlight was the only beacon to guide them. Road signs sporadically appeared, so the group had no need to call on Tatsuya to find their way, in spite of the less than ideal travel conditions in the darkness. A couple of Tsaesci gangs eyed them as potential targets when they passed on the more desolate stretches of road, but when Kielanai cast illusion spells of light and telekinesis through the imitation tattoos, it was enough to encourage the bandits to slither back into the shadows and await easier prey.

They by-passed most of the sporadic inns that appeared along the roadside, but eventually the group ran out of water and needed to replenish their food so they could reach the next town before sunrise. Their request for a late night meal at a local noodle shop was granted, but the wolf had to stay outside.

An old Tsaesci woman sat the two sorcerers on large cushions at a low table on a raised platform and served them bowls of steamed rice and vegetables, along with some rice wine. She brought Kielanai fish-bone scraps and batter drippings, seating her on the ground floor near their table ... where they had taken off their muddy shoes before being seated.

The bard folded her arms and glared at the two fake sorcerers while they drank their sake.

"How are we supposed to eat with these?" Daerazal held up the two sticks he had been given and looked around to see if there were any other customers he could learn from. They were the only ones in the establishment at that hour of night.

"_Ohashi_," Kielanai whispered, supplying the name for the sticks before whisking her fish scraps to the side and holding up her bowl to receive some rice and vegetables.

Rindaalyn leaned over her arm to study her hand and how she held them. He glanced toward the old serpentine woman in the kitchen to make sure she wasn't looking, then raked some of his food into the bard's bowl.

"Chizrae and Vivec had to travel to Solstheim and then back through a spirit bridge before reaching Akavir," Daerazal began thinking aloud in a low, quiet voice to avoid being overheard. "Then, they probably had to travel inland, just like we're doing. That means they might not be too far ahead of us."

"Jiub's escape was probably timed during or right after Chizrae and Vivec's trip to Solstheim," Rindaalyn agreed. "I think the false Nerevarine made her claim as soon as the real one was unable to do anything about it."

Daerazal nodded in agreement. "If we could rent some kind of mount, we may be able to catch up to them." He looked over the edge of the table where Kielanai sat on the ground floor. "Didn't you say the people here rode large deer?"

"I don't know what they do here. I only know my family used them as mounts on Kojima, and they were brought from here." Kielanai devoured her small portion of rice and vegetables, looked over her shoulder to be sure they weren't being watched, then held her bowl up for more.

"_Oi_," Rindaalyn nudged Daerazal and pointed to her with his _hashi_. "I'm not the only one having to share, am I?"

Daerazal scraped a portion of his rice and vegetables into her bowl. "We should see if we have enough money to rent a couple of deer mounts at the next village. It could cut our time in half."

Kielanai heard the wolf whimpering outside and pawing at the door. "What about Talvalo?"

The Drow-Altmer sighed, annoyed that he had to make allowances for his brother-in-law's unique problem. "Wolves are fast. He can run alongside us."

"He wouldn't be able to outrun a deer," Kielanai countered.

Daerazal brushed it off. "Your speed depends on what you're trying to catch. If a wolf truly wants to catch a deer, he'll run fast enough to do just that."

The wolf began to howl, so that everyone heard him. The three patrons looked up to find the old Tsaesci giving them an unhappy expression as she tapped her tail impatiently on the counter. "_Ano inu ha urusai desu yo_," she complained, gesturing toward the door.

Kielanai turned and bowed apologetically. "_Sumimasen. Kare ha ... uta wo utatteimasu._"

Daerazal leaned across the table and whispered to Rindaalyn. "You should be answering that old woman, not your slave."

"The old woman complained the dog is noisy, so Kielanai told her that the dog is singing a song," the youth translated.

"What?" Daerazal winced.

Kielanai started singing a tune with the howling wolf in hopes of covering his noise. When that didn't work, she stood and continued singing as she went to the door, where she gritted her teeth at him in a threatening manner, then continued trying to sing pleasantly above his barking and growling.

"Okay, I don't think we're welcome here anymore. We're going to wake up the neighborhood. Let's go." Under the snake-woman's annoyed glare, Daerazal took Kielanai's bowl of scraps and tucked it behind his back as he and Rindaalyn bowed apologetically, put on their shoes, and led their singing slave out the door to their singing dog.

On the edge of the walkway where Talvalo waited for them, the Drow-Altmer dumped the contents of the bowl and set the empty container near the door. "Eat," he groused.

Talvalo sniffed over the fish scraps and looked up as if they had to be kidding.

"That's all she gave me, so that's all we have to share," Kielanai answered. "Either eat it or do without."

The wolf snorted and turned his back to it.

"See? He doesn't deserve a deer mount of his own," Daerazal spoke. "He'd sit on it like some kind of hairy troll and cause all kinds of chaos if anyone saw him."

Talvalo answered with some kind of noise that was a cross between and growl and a gruff whine, clearly cursing him in wolf language.

At the next village, Rindaalyn and Kielanai left Daerazal and Talvalo standing in the middle of the road and went to the stable to barter for rides. The bard still didn't like this idea of looking for riding mounts for only part of their company, but she politely negotiated when the Tsaesci stable owner slithered toward them. In the end, Rindaalyn followed the Tsaesci to the stables, while Kielanai went to get Daerazal and Talvalo and lead them to their leased beasts of burden.

Daerazal rubbed his cold hands expectantly. "So, what kind of exotic creatures are we riding? Deer? Tiger? Dragon?" he whispered as they joined Rindaalyn at the stalls.

The Tsaesci reached behind a low door and passed two little furballs into Rindaalyn's and Daerazal's arms. Each creature was brown with black markings and had an unusually large scrotum. The little animals blinked at the elves with round, black eyes and sniffed them with cold, wet, dog-like snouts. Kielanai laughed lightly, and Rindaalyn thanked the Tsaesci trainer, but Daerazal was confused.

"What's this?" he asked as the Tsaesci left them.

"Tanuki," Kielanai answered with a grin as she walked back toward the road.

"How am I supposed to ride this?" the Drow-Altmer complained in hushed tones as he followed. "I might as well put a saddle on Talvalo. At least he's bigger."

"Tanuki are shape-shifters," Rindaalyn explained. "The Tsaesci said it was a perfect mount for two-legged spellcasters like us, since we can choose which kind of mount we prefer. And they're actually cheaper to rent than the larger animals for some reason."

Daerazal held his little dog-animal out at arms' length with a grimace of doubt. "Aw, come on. His balls drag the ground. It's a wonder he can waddle around his pen, much less run across the desert. There is no way this thing will get us there any faster than walking."

Kielanai laughed lightly at his complaint, took Rindaalyn's tanuki, and set it on the ground. "_Ne, tanuki-chan_. _Oshika wo kudasai_." She requested and stepped back to give it space to work its magic. The little raccoon-dog squinted its eyes shut and danced around in a circle, bending, twisting, and bloating until its body became a large, graceful stag. Delighted with the results, the bard patted the stag's neck in a congratulatory manner, then gestured for the youth to hop on.

Rindaalyn was awed and eagerly climbed onto the stag's back. Reaching a hand to Kielanai, he helped her mount behind him.

The former Llothian sighed to himself and set his fat little furball on the ground, only to realize he didn't know the command to make it shape-shift. The tanuki realized this about the same time the elf did and took off running. "Hey! Come back here!" He had no choice but to run after his runaway.

Talvalo barked and joined the chase.

"You know, I think he was right," Rindaalyn commented to Kielanai as he nudged the deer to follow. "Speed depends on what you're trying to catch."


	24. Chapter 24: Serpentine Samurai

Chapter 24: Serpentine Samurai

After a long, off-road chase, nearly getting lost, and nearly by-passing Daerazal's tanuki a few times because it attempted to fool them by shifting into some other form, the elves soon realized why the fantastic, little creature cost less than the more standard mounts. Not only did it have a nasty tendency to evade and camouflage itself, but to be so small, it had a very large appetite. More than once both tanuki sneaked away during a rest break to steal food from whatever source was nearby. Only Talvalo was able to effectively hunt them down and herd them back in every time. They were almost more trouble than they were worth. But in stag-form, they were swift and bounded with ease along both mountain passes and grassy plains. They _did_ cover a lot of terrain quickly.

About a week's journey inland, elevation began to drop and temperatures began to rise. The monsoons stopped, but as the weather began to dry up, so did the rivers and number of villages that offered services along the way.

A week and a half into the journey, the elves no longer found places along the roadside where they could stop to quench their thirst. Dust storms began to blow in from the north, stinging their eyes and clouding the horizon. The road signs eventually disappeared, too, but Rindaalyn had been studying the land and stars since their arrival. He was able to find similar qualities in his knowledge of the Grazelands and Ashlands of Morrowind to continue leading them in a northward direction, even when the road itself disappeared.

Two weeks into the journey, deep in the night, the elven party finally arrived at their destination— Sassubaa. The small town's lanterns shining in the dark were the only sign of life amid the large rock formations and dunes of an otherwise barren landscape.

After trading their tanuki-stags at the stables, they entered the village and began to debate which services to seek first. The _click-clack_ of their wooden shoes on the sand and gravel was slightly dampened by the _pitter-patter_ of Talvalo's padded feet, but it was the night song of some cricket-like insects that truly added to the lulling rhythm of their walk under the canopy of stars.

"A place to eat." Rindaalyn's stomach growled. "We haven't eaten since last night, and I'm starving."

"Food stands will be closed at this time of night." Daerazal checked the position of the moons.

Kielanai yawned. "An inn would be better. It would have soft, clean futon _and_ sell food."

"What, no diversions this time?" Daerazal asked. "No taverns or onsen? No strip show?"

"It _wasn't_ a strip show; you barged in on me," the bard argued.

"Talvalo barged in on you; we were just following him." Rindaalyn tried to sound innocent.

"I had a towel. It _wasn't_ a strip show," Kielanai repeated.

"It was tiny towel," Daerazal countered, amused.

The bard sighed. "You're never going to let me hear the end of this, are you."

"No," two of her three companions answered in unison. The third gruffed in agreement as he trotted alongside them.

Talvalo had remained in quadruped wolf-form in spite of the passing moon phases because he realized people regarded their group with less suspicion having only two sorcerers, instead of three. And, it saved money paying for only two accommodations when they stopped. Apparently, sorcerers were considered uncommon, while slaves and dogs weren't considered at all. It was up to Daerazal and Rindaalyn to be sure that Kielanai and Talvalo were fed and sheltered along the way, but because they kept to themselves for most of the journey, so far no one had called their bluff.

Kielanai snorted at their unabashed responses and lifted her chin with pride. "I should expect as much from obnoxious, nasty, little dark elves and a wolf."

"Dark elves?" Daerazal checked the golden color of his hands and arms. "There are no dark elves here. Dark elves don't exist in Akavir. Wearing this Altmer disguise has even given me a normal tolerance for light and taken away my infravision. For the first time in my life I'm as blind at night as you people are. I don't know how you live like this. I hate it."

"Then, for once, maybe you'll be grateful for my light spells," Kielanai retorted. "But maybe I'll only cast them for you when I stop hearing smarmy remarks about my strip show."

Daerazal smirked. "Then you admit it was a strip show."

She cast him a baleful glance.

Rindaalyn chuckled at their exchange, but then abruptly drew back behind the corner of one of the latticed buildings and pulled Kielanai and Daerazal into the shadows with him. Talvalo leaped into hiding with them. Cutting short their questions about his rude behavior, Rindaalyn held a finger to his lips and pointed. "If dark elves don't exist in Akavir," he whispered, "who is that?"

Under the flickering light of paper lanterns, an ebony-skinned woman walked alone down the dusty, mostly deserted road that intersected the one they had been following. Her stark white hair was rolled into twin buns with ornate combs, and she wore a short kimono beneath a flowing, open robe of purple silk. It was embroidered with silver spiders, and a long, five-headed, snake whip hung from the weapons belt she wore beneath her obi. She seemed completely unconcerned about being accosted. Indeed, the few Tsaesci she passed slithered by quickly without making eye contact, as if to avoid her.

"She looks like you and the other dark elves from your world," Rindaalyn whispered the obvious to Daerazal, breaking the silence in the shadows. "Do you know her?"

The Drow-Altmer shook his head. "No, but she's definitely Llothian. That's all I need to know."

"Do you think we're too late?" Kielanai asked the question everyone else was thinking, but no one else dared to ask.

"There's only one way to find out." With one hand on the hilt of his sword, Daerazal started to head after her.

"Wait," Rindaalyn stopped him. "She might attack us like the ones in Vivec did, and we're not armored." The scout indicated their very vulnerable bare torsos and worthless "magical" tattoos. He was afraid of getting struck with that awful whip again, and Daerazal couldn't blame him.

"He's right," the bard whispered. "If all four of us go after her, she may think it's an ambush and attack. Let me talk to her. I might be able to convince her to lead us to Chizrae."

"She won't talk to you," the warrior disagreed. "And wherever she's headed, there's probably a dozen more Llothians waiting for her. We should suit up and follow."

"_Baka._" Kielanai frowned and clamped a firm hand over Daerazal's hooded head to hold his attention. "_Listen to me._ This is a situation where you need to confirm information _before_ you jump into action. We need to confirm the location of the gate and where Chizrae is in relation to it before we destroy it. If you run out there and threaten her, we may never find either of them."

"Fine. I'll _talk_ to her, but you stay here with Talvalo." He looked to the Dunmer-Tsaesci scout, instead. "Rin, you're coming with me."

Kielanai was insulted. "I'm better at negotiating than either of you. Why do I have to stay here?"

Daerazal leaned in close, nose-to-nose with her, all previous humor having been replaced by a serious, sinister expression. "We may be in the land of your ancestors, but Llothians are _my_ territory. _You_ are a gold elf slave. They won't give you the time of day, but they might decide it would be fun to torture you for sport. _Stay_ _here_," he repeated his order more firmly, removing the Altmer race amulet from his neck and slipping it into his pocket.

His golden skin and green eyes melted back to their natural raven-black and blood-red tones. Hooking Rindaalyn by the arm, he headed after the female Drow. "_Sjaad'ur uns'aa, Jabbress_!" he called to get her attention.

The priestess turned to face them, but her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "_Vel'uss ph' dos?_"

"_Nindol zhah l' dalharuk d'lil qos op'elg Kuroi-Dokuga._" He decided to keep up the ruse of Rindaalyn being the dread pirate's son and introduced him as such. Careful to keep his distance from the whip at the Llothian's thigh as forked tongues flickered toward him, he kept his eyes averted from the priestess and continued speaking in his native Drow tongue. "We've just come in from scouting Morrowind, and he wishes to know if there is any further news on the plans for invasion."

The priestess looked from the male Drow to the Dunmer with the Tsaesci-like features, and her brow lifted with interest. "If you were in Morrowind, you should be talking to Veszcryso Aleanund, not me."

"We regret to inform you Veszcryso Aleanund was killed in Vivec, shortly after pretending to be the Nerevarine and issuing a call for the Dunmer to take up arms against the Imperial Outlanders," Daerazal reported, still keeping his head properly bowed in the presence of the priestess.

"_Killed? _By whom?"

"She was struck down by two dark elves in the crowd that did not believe her Nerevarine claim."

"How do you know this?"

"We were there, _Jabbress_."

"And you did not adequately defend her?"

"We were among the guards that stayed with the Dunmer prisoner, Jiub. The ones that accompanied Veszcryso were killed along with her. When she didn't return, we went looking for her and found her remains … and heard what happened. Her attempt to persuade traditionalists to attack the Imperial-seated king failed. All of Tamriel is aware of the disappearance of Lord Vivec and the true Nerevarine, so we've returned to ask for further orders. I just hope we're not too late to prevent the Tsaesci armies from falling into an Imperial trap at the demon gates."

"If Veszcryso was killed, how did the Empire find out about our plans to use the gates?"

"Her Dunmer prisoner escaped." It was easy to blame Jiub. It was the truth.

One hand on her snake-whip, she drew nearer to Daerazal. "Then_ you failed _to guard him, didn't you."

"We really should be talking with the person in charge of the invasion, rather than a minor priestess," Rindaalyn spoke.

Daerazal knew the scout had been able to understand their conversation thanks to Chizrae's translation amulet he still wore, but while he was grateful to be rescued from punishment for allowing Jiub to escape, he was wary of how a Llothian priestess would react to a male Tsaesci speaking so plainly.

The priestess moved to stand before the insolent Dunmer and folded her arms, clearly weighing whether he had the right to so boldly address her in such a manner. "You speak the Drow tongue with unnatural fluency." Reaching a hand to the translation amulet he wore, she lifted the delicate item on her fingertips and recognized the obsidian and sapphire trinket as one obviously made from Drow design. She released his amulet to touch a similar one at her own throat, making sure that he saw it. "Such expensive artifacts are usually only given to the privileged? You knew Veszcryso?" Her eyes traveled down Rindaalyn's torso, more interested in what she saw beneath the serpentine tattoos than the 'magical' drawings themselves.

Daerazal chose his words with care and a small, devious smile. "He was _very_ close to her, _Jabbress._ But he is young and ignorant of our ways. Perhaps there is something to be gained by the priestess who delivers news of her death," he suggested in a subtle manner. "Her position? Her rank?"

The priestess smirked at his attempt to appeal to her greed. "I am Auniira Nardool, Third Daughter of the First House of Guallidurth. I'm the ambassador for House Nardool here in Akavir. My only gain would be in learning of the death of my First and Second sisters."

Daerazal mentally cursed himself for picking a too-highly-ranked target for information.

"However," the priestess continued, "I've been stuck in this sand hovel for over a month now, and I'm bored with present company. The two of you could make things ... interesting." The snake whip responded to her emotion by slithering and coiling around one of his thighs as she pressed against him and used a finger to lift his chin to meet her gaze.

The former Llothian tensed at the snake-whip coiling around his _hakama_, but forced himself to return her flirtatious smirk. "Oh, I could definitely make things interesting," he quietly assured her.

The Dunmer scout quirked a brow of doubt at the tone of the Drow warrior's negotiations.

The Llothian chuckled quietly to herself and her snakes relaxed. "Well, since you bring bad news from Morrowind, I'm sure Lord Awai-Hebi will want to speak with you immediately." She slipped between them and hooked one arm within each of their arms to lead them down one of the side streets.

Daerazal reached his free hand behind his back and flashed a silent hand-sign before he and Rindaalyn disappeared around the corner into the darkness with her.

))((

Down the street, behind the building where Kielanai and Talvalo watched from the shadows, the wolf saw the hand-sign and growled low under his breath. Putting his nose to the ground, he trotted into the street to track the scent of their trail.

"Talvalo! Come back here!" Kielanai hissed. The hand-sign meant nothing to her, but the fact that two of her companions had just left without them was a concern. Since the wolf ignored her to track them, the bard had no choice but to follow.

))((

Auniira flashed Rindaalyn a seductive smile as the snake-heads of her whip wrapped around his naked waist beneath his cloak. "You look very different from the other two-legged sorcerers. Are you more like a real elf, or do you also have a serpent's tail beneath that elf-like shape?"

The teen didn't quite know what to do with the blatant attention from such a voluptuous, yet dangerous, woman. "I'm … young," he awkwardly reminded her, relying on Daerazal's earlier statement.

"Perhaps the _Jabbress_ would like to entertain herself with the son of the dread pirate Kuroi-Dokuga while I deliver the bad news from Morrowind to the Tsaesci lord, instead. Rindaalyn is rather naïve and could use the full attention of a mistress such as yourself," Daerazal humbly offered.

The Ashlander youth leaned forward and gave him a wide-eyed, tight-lipped expression.

Auniira smiled again. "While your offer is tempting, these people depend heavily on their protocol. And _you_ sound like you're fishing for favors." Her attention shifted to the warrior. "If you're trying to avoid blame for the escaped Dunmer slave, I don't think Lord Awai-Hebi or Matron Drael will be pleased to hear of it."

"Everyone fishes for favors, _Jabbress_. Offering my services to you and taking the blame for the Dunmer's escape would be a blessing compared to the punishment in store for the Nerevarine."

A proud smile curled the priestess's lips. "The Nerevarine was taken directly to Matron Drael, then locked in the dungeon. Lord Awai-Hebi has no interest in her, or even Morrowind, for that matter. Soon, House Nardool will be the First House of Guallidurth _and_ eastern Tamriel."

Daerazal mentally checked off his sister's location. "Morrowind already has its own noble houses. They're going to resent Drow usurpation once they're free from Cyrodiil's Empire. Are the Nerevarine and Lord Vivec being kept alive to feed us information about local politics?"

"Of course. Do you think Matron Drael is stupid? She would never conquer a land she knows nothing about." She frowned at him as if that was what he was insinuating. "How is it you know so much about Morrowind's politics? You're not a council wizard; you're just a guard—an ordinary sword-arm."

Daerazal tried not to look relieved as he mentally checked off the fact that his sister was still alive, then forced himself to return his most alluring smile. "The son of the dread pirate Kuroi-Dokuga wasn't the only one to get _close_ to Veszcryso Aleanund."

Auniira was amused … even intrigued. "Then perhaps I could be _persuaded_ to speak to Matron Drael on your behalf, concerning Veszcryso's death and the escape of her Dunmer prisoner."

"I'd be undeserving and in your debt, _Jabbress_." The warrior bowed his head with sly gratitude.

"Oh, please," Rindaalyn muttered in his native tongue.

Releasing Auniira's arm, Daerazal reached behind her and flicked the youth's sharp, gray ear to shut him up.

Stone, serpentine dragons sat high on decorative roof corners and stared down at the strangers entering the courtyard of the large estate. Auniira led Daerazal and Rindaalyn past several Tsaesci and Drow guards to escort them into a guest room where she cast soft, red faerie fire in the lanterns, told them to wait, then left.

Daerazal seated himself on one of the large cushions on the tatami floor and looked over the items on the table facing him. They were ordinary things—calligraphy brushes, ink supplies, a paperweight, and a few bamboo scrolls—but this warlord was not conducting ordinary business.

"You're not serious about her, are you?" Rindaalyn whispered, as he seated himself beside the other elf.

"Whatever it takes to get details on the location of the gate," Daerazal quietly answered. "Jiub told Kielanai to go north and look for the portal in some high rocks in the middle of nowhere, but that's hardly a road map." His attention returned to the bamboo scrolls, and he used a finger to lift the end of one to see if it had any helpful information. "At least we know Chizrae and Vivec are still alive in House Nardool's dungeon."

Rindaalyn pushed the warrior's hand away before they risked being caught stealing. "And when we find the gate, do you expect us to take on an entire army of Drow and Tsaesci to stop the invasion?"

"No, I expect us to take on the entire First House of Guallidurth to free my sister. _Then_ we'll take down the gate to stop the invasion."

The door slid open, and Auniira reentered, along with several Drow and Tsaesci warriors and one snake-man with an unusually pale, almost white, form. He had pink eyes and wore a red silk robe over the human portion of his upper torso. Black hair spilled partially over his shoulders in sharp contrast to the deathly pallor of his skin, but a portion of it was drawn away from his face into a twisted topknot high on his head. His uncannily flexible body slithered toward the table, where he coiled his snake tail around himself and settled comfortably. He made no effort to bow. But when _they_ didn't, two of his warriors slithered forward and pushed their heads down onto the table itself, holding them there.

"I believe they want you to mind your manners in front of Lord Awai-Hebi," Auniira informed them in a cold tone.

"Tell him what I told Auniira," Daerazal whispered to Reznetha'ir.

"_Sumimasen, Awai-Hebi-sama. Konbanha,_" Rindaalyn apologized, cheek flat against the table.

"_Ude wo misete kudasai,_" Awai-Hebi told one of his guards before the son of the dread pirate could say anything else.

"I don't think he's going to take the news as well as she did," Rindaalyn whispered back.

One of the snake-warriors let go of the scout's head, but grabbed his arm and slid a firm hand down the intricate drawings Kielanai refreshed each night before continuing their journey.

Daerazal's markings weren't visible any more against his natural skin tone, but the smears down the ash-blue elf's arm were enough to prove they were both imposters.

"_Tsaesci ja arimasen_," the pale warlord announced. "_Kao wo misete kudasai._"

The snake-warrior pulled both of their hoods back, fully exposing their faces.

"Lying bastards," Auniira spoke in her native tongue. "Veszcryso Aleanund never had any interest in bedding men."

Daerazal met her cold, crimson fury with a smirk. "At least she wasn't interested in bedding snakes."

The priestess lunged forward and snatched him by his throat as she reached for her whip.

"_Yamete!_" Awai-Hebi gave her a look of warning and gave a firm gesture for her to back away from the prisoners.

Daerazal felt his heart race. That's what they were now—prisoners.

Auniira released him with a shove and stepped back, but the snakes dangling at her hip twisted and hissed, sharing her desire for revenge.

))((

Talvalo tracked Daerazal and Rindaalyn's trail by scent, rather than trying to keep them in sight, so the Drow priestess wouldn't suspect she was being followed.

One hand on her sword, Kielanai stayed close behind the wolf and kept check over her shoulder to be sure no one else was paying them any mind.

Eventually, the wolf came to a stop across the street from the warlord's large estate and whimpered. The estate was heavily guarded, so they dare not get any closer.

Kielanai wished she had more invisibility or chameleon potions, but she used them to come ashore. "We'll just have to wait here and trust them to handle it alone," she whispered, sharing his worry.

The two of them sat crouched in the shadows across the street, hoping they would see their two other companions walk out of their own accord … soon.

))((

Daerazal leaned toward Rindaalyn and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Tell them the Altmer wish to ally against the Empire."

"What?" Rindaalyn couldn't believe how easily the Drow created a web of lies around himself.

"Who are you?" the pale snake-lord demanded in his native Akaviri tongue.

The flustered youth drew words from the translation amulet to match his thoughts. "I am the son of the dread pirate Kuroi-Dokuga. My father and I have been living off the coast of Tamriel for years now. But when he heard rumours that the Nerevarine and Lord Vivec went missing, he sent me to tell you the Aldmeri elves also wish to ally against the Empire." As soon as he said it, Rindaalyn realized what kind of gauntlet Daerazal wanted him to throw down ... and why. He just wished Kielanai were here to do the negotiating, instead. She knew more about this kind of thing than he did.

Awai-Hebi turned to his advisers, who whispered among themselves and then whispered to him. "Where is this Aldmeri kingdom located?" he asked.

"They once had their own empire is the western parts of Tamriel—the Aldermi Dominion," the Ashlander answered before the Tsaesci could consult their maps. "But they eventually were forced to surrender to the human empire of Cyrodiil—the same empire that used Tsaesci captives to win and rule Tamriel. But the elves of the Summerset Isles, like the elves of Morrowind, have never liked being under human rule. And now, because of the Oblivion Crisis, there is no human emperor. Imperial forces are already aware of what's happening in Morrowind, but gates opening to the west, in the land of the Altmer, might still be able to surprise Imperial City." With his lack of formal education, he couldn't offer names or dates, but he remembered what his mother passed down to him concerning elven empires and subjugation across Tamriel.

Awai-Hebi was quiet for a moment, listening to his advisers confirm, in greater detail, what bits of Tamrielic history they knew concerning the Aldmeri elves. Then, placing his hands on the table, the warlord leaned into the scout's face. "And what does this Aldmeri Dominion mean to you, half-blood?"

Rindaalyn wasn't sure what he meant. "Allies. Their islands could be used as bases for our ships. Tsaesci sorcerers could pose as Altmer wizards to infiltrate the mainland. If all the elves of Tamriel were to unite against human domination, we could topple the Empire," Rindaalyn tried to suggest.

"And replace it with another Aldmeri Dominion?" Awai-Hebi challenged with a cold glare. "That is not what we want. And you are _not_ one of us. Your elf-tainted blood makes allegiance to your Tsaesci lineage questionable."

"The dark elves of Morrowind want nothing to do with me because of my Tsaesci-blood. I don't care what happens to them any more," the youth insisted.

A slow, sinister smile crossed the pale lips of the Tsaesci shogun, revealing his thin, almost translucent, fangs. A glance toward his guards had them snatching Daerazal under the arms, removing his sword, and dragging him back from the table.

Unarmed, unarmored, and forced to stay on his knees, the Drow was not quite panicked, but very confused. "What did you say to him?"

"If you truly desire to become one of us … drain him," Awai-Hebi delivered his sinister challenge.

Rindaalyn tried not to reveal his disbelief at the command. "But he's not Dunmer."

"He is an elf! We Tsaesci grow strong on the blood of our enemies. Humans and elves have rich blood that warms us when there is no sun. It gives us the ability to run on legs. And it creates a soul that can live beyond death. With the warm blood of humans and elves, Tsaesci have been able to command dragons, call down stars, raise typhoons, and shake the earth! Drain this elf, half-blood. Drink his blood, so that we may see where your loyalties truly lie."

The youth looked to Daerazal with dread, then looked to Auniira to see what she thought of this command.

"Don't look at me. It's not my blood being spilled. And your friend's not the only low-life who thinks he's special enough to interest a noble. Besides, House Nordool just brought in two pens full of slaves to be used as cattle to show where our loyalty lies."

Rindaalyn was stunned, but then bowed in apology to the warlord. "I'm sorry, but I cannot do this. I see no reason to waste the life of a friend."

"Then I see no reason to trust you." The pale Tsaesci gestured for his guards to take Rindaalyn captive, too.

Twisting his serpentine body toward the Drowess, he spoke to her. "Take them to your Matron Drael, so she can use her mystical methods to discover what truths are behind their lies. Meanwhile, have her demons inspect the lands of the western elves as a possible target for the gates. Inform her of the changes that have taken place in Morrowind, and give her this message from me. One of her priestesses has already failed. I will not tolerate another. If she cannot fulfill her promise cleanly, we will take back our captives and drain Guallidurth's elves, instead of Tamriel's."

Auniira's eyes narrowed dangerously at his threat. "You dare give House Nardool an ultimatum?"

The warlord leveled an equally menacing gaze on her. "You dared to trespass into Tsaesci."

"With demon gates that can besiege this land as easily as that of your enemies," she reminded him, then leveled her piercing gaze on the two dark elves being transferred from Tsaesci to Drow custody.

Approaching Rindaalyn, she grasped the translator amulet and jerked the chain from his neck. "_Plynn mina ulu l'Quellar ragrubah_," she added in her native tongue.

Daerazal suddenly twisted free and lunged toward the priestess. He tried to grab the translation charm, but in their struggle it was dropped. There would be no chance to retrieve it, because as soon as he broke free from his captors, everyone else broke out their weapons.

The Tsaesci guard closest to him drew a kama from his belt and dropped a chain from within the handle. Whipping the chain around Daerazal's neck and jerking him backwards, he raised the blade to slice open his throat. The Drow gripped the chain, and the arm holding it, and curled himself up to kick the hawk-beak blade away, pulling his attacker down with him. Though he continued to choke on the chain, he didn't dare release it and risk the kama's blade angling back on him. As he struggled to be free of the Tsaesci, however, the priestess lashed into his unprotected torso with her whip.

With all the attention on the defiant Drow, Rindaalyn was able to twist free, too. They had neglected to take away his axe, so the nimble youth used it to deflect several strikes from another Tsaesci guard's katana. Dodging one of the swipes, he jumped onto the table, then onto the Drowess's back, leaping over her to run to the corner of the room, where he could cast his ancestor guardian spell. He hoped Tatsuya would answer his summons once more. They needed help—fast!

))((

Just when Kielanai was about to give up on her companions ever emerging from the complex, the katana at her side began to thrum with magical energy. Though it took her by surprise, the bard immediately recognized what was happening. Standing, she drew the katana from its _saya_ and held it before her with both hands. "_Otousan?_" she whispered into the smoky wisps that curled from the burning characters on the blade.

But her father did not emerge from the ghostly mist this time. A little girl with a gaunt, dirty face appeared, dressed in a plain, ragged kimono. Her short, silver hair was oddly cut and matted, but her bright, aqua-colored eyes bore deep into Kielanai's soul like an unfortunate, younger version of herself.

"Kiumiko ..."


	25. Chapter 25: The Desert's Night Song

Chapter 25: The Desert's Night Song

Without a word to her long-lost sister, the ghost ran into the courtyard of the warlord's estate.

"Kiumiko! Wait!" Kielanai called, still astonished that she had appeared from the spirit runes on the katana.

The wolf dashed after her.

"Talvalo!" Frustrated that no one was listening to her and flustered that she had so little control over it, the bard gritted her teeth and ran after them, knowing she was heading into a death trap.

Racing between the Tsaesci and Drow guards in the courtyard, the wolf sprang over the short garden wall to continue following Rindaalyn and Daerazal's trail. One suspicious Tsaesci slithered after him to see what the animal was up to, but the rest of them remained at their posts.

Kielanai found herself suddenly alone and facing the menacing glares of _all_ the armed Tsaesci and Drow warriors guarding the courtyard of the estate. Panicking, but defiant in the knowledge that her friends needed her, she raised her katana and readied a defensive stance for the fight of her life.

One of the Drow archers fired a bolt from his hand-crossbow, but the bolt stopped in mid-air, froze into solid ice, then shattered to pieces. Kiumiko's ghost reappeared in its place and pointed toward the garden wall.

Kielanai eyed the oncoming warriors surrounding her. There was no way she could break through.

A Tsaesci arrow zipped toward them next, but Kiumiko caught it and shattered it again. Throwing a hand back at them, she channeled a lifetime of hatred and resentment for the snake-men into a tremendous hail storm that cut off their advance, blew them backwards, and pelted them mercilessly with a frozen blast that turned the warriors themselves into ice-coated statues. Turning her chin, the sad little ghost looked to her elder sister. _"Hayaku."_

_Quickly ..._

Stunned at the small spirit's powerful revenge, but recognizing it was intended to clear the path for her, Kielanai gave a curt nod of gratitude and sprinted toward the garden wall. Some of the Drow guards gave chase, but Kiumiko blasted them in the same manner as she had the Tsaesci. The bard barely missed being hit, as well, but she climbed over the wall as fast as she could and ran toward the illuminated building ahead of her. Silhouettes of an intense scuffle could be seen through the thin, paper-and-lattice walls, and Talvalo had stopped short in front of them.

The quadruped wolf stretched, mutating into his more macabre, bi-ped were-form. The Tsaesci that had been following him slid to a halt and tried to slither backwards as soon as he realized this was no ordinary dog. Too late ... The towering werewolf lunged forward, grabbed the snake-man, and ripped into his throat.

Kielanai gasped at Talvalo's ferocious attack and had to turn away from the gruesome sight. When the snarling stopped, she was afraid to look back toward them. But she turned just in time to see the werewolf use the headless snake-man's body as a battering ram to smash through the thin wall. Tossing the limp, serpentine body aside, he bolted through the torn wall into the fray. Beyond him, the room was in chaos.

Kielanai tried not to look at the mangled corpse or its head as she passed them, lest she start retching on an empty stomach. But she forced herself to hurry toward the hole in the wall and assess the critical situation.

Drow warriors had surrounded Daerazal while he fought with the Tsaesci guard and the Llothian priestess. In the corner, Rindaalyn was dodging and fending off attacks from three other Tsaesci. Talvalo was slashing his way through four Tsaesci guards surrounding an unusually pale Tsaesci in a red kimono while various other Tsaesci, who looked more like scholars, fled. It was impossible to decide who to help first, until she noticed Daerazal was unarmed.

Kielanai ran toward the priestess and slashed toward her throat, but _Itai Kokoro's_ shimmering blade met some kind of shield magic that protected the Drowess. The dark elf priestess looked up with a fierce expression, then lashed her whip around the bard's sword, jerking it from her hands, and flinging it across the room.

Grinning maliciously, the Drowess, then flailed the snake heads toward the bard, sinking their poisoned fangs deep into her golden flesh. Face-to-face with her first Llothian priestess, Kielanai recalled everything Daerazal and Jiub had said about those whips. And as she fought to keep from staggering beneath the excruciating pain, she couldn't believe how accurate their descriptions had been.

))((

When Daerazal saw Auniira snatch his sister's charm from Rindaalyn—an item that had proven invaluable to them—he recalled Kielanai's relentless attack on Mankar Camoran in attempt to recover Martin Septim's Amulet of Kings. The bard would have sold her soul to get that amulet back, not because she coveted it, but because it _belonged_ in Martin's hands. She refused to fail him. That was what had prompted his attack on the Drowess to get it back. Now, to see Kielanai in the Llothian's grip, his bloodlust kicked into overdrive.

Without the pain of the snake whip holding him back, Daerazal was able to grab the handle of the kama and slam the blunt end of the weapon back into the nose of its Tsaesci wielder. Freeing himself from the chain, he swung the weapon in an arc and cleaving the snake-samurai's head like a melon. Jerking the weapon free, he lashed the chain around Auniira's throat and pulled her off of Kielanai.

Auniira was furious enough to spit fire like a dragon. "You Lloth-cursed, traitorous, Abyssal-damned bastard!" she spat, in spite of nearly choking. Slamming him across the jaw, she forced him to release the pressure on the chain. Grabbing the back of his neck, she threw him over her shoulder. Then, grabbing a fistful of hair, she jerked his head back up to meet her crimson glare. "Who the hell are you!"

Daerazal could taste his own blood where his lip had cut against his teeth, but after a moment, he laughed softly. She reminded him of his sisters. All Llothians were basically the same temperamental wild-cards, and he knew exactly how to provoke them. "Daerazal, Elderboy, House Velve'Xukuth, Menzoberranzan." He waited for her recognition of his House name to click, then smiled with bitter satisfaction when it did. "_Chizrae's brother._" He punctuated the revelation by spitting blood into her eyes.

Auniira gave an angry shriek and released him with a shove, ready to strike again with her whip, but Daerazal used the blade of the kama to split the priestess's skull, opening a crimson flood over her beautiful silk kimono and robe. As soon as she fell at his feet, he reached for Kielanai's sleeve to pull her to her feet and push her back from the four hovering Drow guards that rushed to tackle them, following the death of the priestess.

))((

Thanks to Daerazal's arduous training on the ship, Rindaalyn was able to use his axe to hook and deflect each of the jarring strikes coming at him, but the agility and strength of the three Tsaesci he fought were wearing him down fast. Knowing he couldn't keep up this pace, the next time one of the snake-warriors coiled into a circle shape and did a shoulder roll past him to strike at his back, Rindaalyn allowed a deflecting blow against another warrior's katana to carry his axe to the ground, but then spun low to strike at the one that had managed to get behind him.

He scored a gash on the snake's tail just below the human-like torso, but when he raised his axe to strike again, a katana from the other Tsaesci sliced right through the handle. Rindaalyn stabbed the cut end of the handle into the open gash, then did a shoulder roll of his own to dodge the retaliation strike.

He noticed that Kielanai had joined Daerazal's fight, and Talvalo was fighting Awai-Hebi's guards, but he also spotted the torn hole in the wall and ran toward it. On the other side, he continued running down the covered walkway toward a supporting post, jumped up to catch the rain spout, and pulled himself up onto the roof. Jerking his cloak over himself to blend better with the night sky, he drew his bow and a handful of arrows. Setting the arrows between his knuckles, he waited for the pursuing Tsaesci to appear under the eave looking for him. All three went down with rapid fire in seconds. But how many more were left?

Rindaalyn turned to see if any of the other courtyard guards had spotted him, but was amazed to see that they had all been frozen by some kind of terrible ice magic. He supposed it was the bard that had done it, but he had no idea her magic was that strong. Frustrated that his own magic had failed, he needed the space and time to try again. _"Please help,"_ he begged between clenched teeth and cast his ancestor summoning spell once more.

))((

As Talvalo ripped the arm off of the fourth and final Tsaesci guard, he noticed the pale snake-man they were guarding was slithering away from the chaos. Splattered in blood from head to toe, the great, white werewolf dropped his last victim and bounded after the escaping warlord.

The pale Tseasci, realizing he was being followed and knowing he couldn't outrun the beast, dodged and slithered back toward his desk, where he grabbed a long, thin paperweight.

Talvalo twisted back around and leaped, jaws open-wide, reaching to bite off the pale snake-man's head, when the Tsaesci warlord snapped open the paperweight. Drawing a slender dagger from its mold, he thrust the hidden weapon up under the werewolf's ribs as he landed on him.

The werewolf yelped and tried to roll away, but the blade had already gone deep enough to create a grievous wound. Growling in anger, Talvalo snapped his teeth toward the snake-lord's head, but the snake-lord wrapped his tail around the werewolf's waist and constricted each coil with bone-crushing pressure.

Grinning at his cleaver capture of the beast, the pale snake-man opened his mouth with a hiss to display long, needle-sharp fangs, then struck fast and hard to drain the werewolf's blood. When he had enough, he pushed the werewolf to the floor and slithered toward the torn wall with preternatural speed.

))((

While Daerazal occupied the four remaining Llothian guards with some impressive, defensive hand-combat moves, he was still outnumbered and unarmed. Kielanai frantically scanned the floor for her dropped, enchanted katana. When she spotted it, it was smoking with spirit magic again. Staring at the glowing characters on the blade, for a second she wondered who would make an appearance this time. Suspecting Rindaalyn was the one responsible for the summons, she glanced around the room, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Still reeling with pain from the priestess's whip, the bard made a dive for the sword's hilt and snatched it up just as a figure took shape within the mist. It was another samurai, but it wasn't Tatsuya. Without wasting time on greetings, the ghostly samurai drew his own katana and attacked one of the Drow warriors attacking Daerazal.

Leaving him to it, Kielanai put aside her curiosity to look for Daerazal's longsword. It wasn't far from where they were fighting. The bard had never trained using two swords, but she grabbed Spider Bite in her off-hand and managed to plunge its enchanted adamantine blade through the back of one of the remaining three Llothians, all the same. As one Drow fell dead at her feet, another turned and nearly sliced her in half. She deflected the blow with _Itai Kokoro_, only to see a spirit blade sever his head from behind. Their samurai guardian had taken down two by himself. Daerazal had finished off the last one by breaking his neck.

Kielanai pulled Spider Bite from the dead Llothian's back and handed it to the exhausted, battered Drow that rested on one knee to catch his breath.

"_Doumoarigatou_," she thanked the spirit samurai. "_Demo,_ _Rindaalyn wo sagashite kudasai._"

_"Hai,"_ the ancestor spirit agreed and left to look for the Ashlander scout.

"Talvalo …" With worry, she rushed to the injured werewolf's side.

))((

Jumping down from the roof, Rindaalyn cursed his luck at his second failed ancestor summons, then unexpectedly found himself facing a very angry Awai-Hebi. The warlord's mouth and chin were smeared in blood, and he displayed his vampiric fangs with a hiss of warning. The youth was so startled, he stumbled backwards, falling onto the bodies of the three Tsaesci guards he had just killed.

Smiling, Awai-Hebi snatched up a walking stick by the door, but this was no ordinary walking stick. One end of the cane dropped open to release a long, slender blade when he tapped it on the ground. Now he had a _yari_.

Rindaalyn grabbed a katana from one of the fallen Tsaesci beneath him and rolled to one side just in time to avoid the being stabbed by the small spear. The scout rose to his knees and brought the katana up in his defense to avoid another attempt, as if an ordinary sword could kill a vampire.

Awai-Hebi laughed like a cat toying with a mouse before eating it. Tapping the yari on the ground again released a chain from the other end of the pole. "_Shine, kouzo._" Using his snake tail to rise above the youth, he shot the chain toward him, catching the katana and ripping it from his grip before striking again with the _yari_. And this time, he wasn't playing. His impossibly quick speed and reflexes were no match for the Dunmer teen, but the ancestor spirit that appeared behind him caught the middle of the pole-arm and twisted it backwards.

Caught by surprise, the vampire snake turned to defend himself and was surprised to see that the ghost of an Akaviri human was restraining him.

Rindaalyn was confused to see that it wasn't Tatsuya.

_"Kielanai no katana ga hitsuyou!"_ the human samurai ordered the scout, still holding the warlord's pole-arm. _"Kielanai no katana! Itai Kokoro! Ike!"_ he repeated urgently.

Rindaalyn scrambled to his feet and raced back through the torn wall. "Kielanai! I need your sword!"

Kneeling over Talvalo, she passed the weapon to the scout, no questions asked.

Running back to the ghostly samurai restraining the vampire snake, both forces applying supernatural strength to an impossible outcome, Rindaalyn held _Itai Kokoro_ before him like a lance and thrust it into the vampire's chest.

The serpentine shogun gasped in shock and pain and looked down at the bloodied sword that pierced his heart. In disbelief, he grasped the razor-sharp blade of the exquisite katana in and admired its deadly beauty. _"Hontou ni dare desu ka?"_ the weak vampire hissed as the weapon consumed his undead soul.

Without Chizrae's charm, Rindaalyn couldn't understand the warlord's request.

"He wishes to know the name of his killer," the ghost offered as he released him.

Rindaalyn frowned. "Just a half-blooded brat that wasn't good enough for you," he bitterly answered.

_"Harufu … kouzo,"_ the ghost told the vampire.

Awai-Hebi gave a soft, hissing laugh. "_Jaa_ _... yokatta ... __Harufu,_" he coughed before drawing his last breath.

"_Sou ... yokatta, Rin-kun,_" the human ghost agreed as Rindaalyn withdrew _Itai Kokoro_ from the dead warlord's body. "Well done."

))((

Kielanai listened for Talvalo's heartbeat. He was still alive, but barely. Suspecting crushed ribs beneath his bloodied, thick fur, she began to cast what small healing magic she could for him.

"Is he going to be alright?" Daerazal asked, joining them.

"Little-by-little." When the werewolf finally opened his pale green eyes in gratitude, she smiled to encourage him and gently stroked his head behind his ear.

Rindaalyn stepped through the torn wall to offer the bard her sword back, but then saw that she had her hands full and crouched to replace the weapon in its _saya _for her. "Awai-Hebi is dead."

The ghostly samurai who had helped them passed through the solid portion of the paper wall. "Glad to see you are putting my sword to good use," he commented, removing his helm. His hair was slightly shorter than Tatsuya's, but it was the same blue-black color and drawn back into a short stub of a ponytail. A small goatee made him look slightly like a mischievous, humored goat. He looked a lot like Tatsuya, but not enough to be his twin.

Kielanai smiled when she recognized him. "_Oji-san, hontou ni, arigatougozaimashita. _This is my father's brother, Masahiro," she added, introducing him.

He exchanged bows with the Drow and the Ashlander in short, informal greeting. "Tatsuya could not come. He promised to guard your ship."

"Kiumiko came earlier," she said, acknowledging that she knew of her sister's existence now.

Rindaalyn looked surprised to hear about this.

"Our time in this world is temporary," Masahiro answered. "And only one of us can answer each summons. But she thanks you for her flower garden on your _Crystal Maiden_. _Oi_, you are not glad to see me? That's _my_ katana you throw around without a care, _na_?"

Kielanai smiled, appreciating his humor in the aftermath of such a horrible skirmish.

The samurai grinned, then turned to face Rindaalyn. "No true samurai would drain the blood of a friend to prove his loyalty to an enemy. These serpents do not know what it means to be samurai like their slaves once did. In spite of what that snake said, you _do_ have what it takes to be one of us. _Ki wo tsukete kudasai, mina-san_," he added to everyone with another bow before fading away.

Kielanai looked to Rindaalyn, puzzled and expecting an explanation.

Rindaalyn smiled, grateful for the human samurai's parting words. "Awai-Hebi found out we were imposters and wanted me to drain Daerazal's blood before he would accept anything I said."

The bard was appalled, but looked to Daerazal for confirmation.

"We didn't get the location of the gate." Still in a pissed-off mood, the Drow moved to Awai-Hebi's desk to shuffle through the bamboo scrolls, but then became angry that he couldn't read anything. "_Iblith!_" he snapped and sent a handful of scrolls flying off of the table in one swipe. Dropping to his knees, he crawled back to the bodies of the other Drow and turned them over to look for something beneath them.

Kielanai spotted Chizrae's obsidian and sapphire amulet on the tatami near Auniira's body. Gently releasing Talvalo's head, she crawled to the translation amulet to retrieve it. Figuring it might be what he was searching for, she placed it in Daerazal's palm and closed his fingers protectively over it.

Speechless, exhausted, but grateful for her support, Daerazal let his forehead fall lightly against hers for a moment.

"I'll look through the scrolls for a map," she quietly offered. "But we shouldn't stay here too long. We're in no shape to fight anyone else who might show up."

The Drow nodded in silent agreement and reluctantly stood. After checking his sword, he grabbed his cloak to cover the whip welts and cuts on his torso and grimaced as he pulled the straps of his travel pack over them.

Talvalo slowly sat up and growled low under his breath. Standing, he limped to his small brother-in-law's side and clasped a large, clawed hand to his shoulder to lead him out of the house.

Rindaalyn waited behind with Kielanai as she shuffled through scroll after scroll. Quickly scanning the characters on each paper, parchment, and bamboo strip, she finally found something of use—notes on the Drow gate in _Yonaki Sabaku_. Then, hurrying outside to where Daerazal and Talvalo waited, they left the village before their damage could be discovered by anyone outside of the warlord's estate.

Slow, injured, and tired, the elves and the werewolf headed north into the desert.

))((

The Drow had his infravision back, so he took the lead in seeking out a temporary shelter. The rocky cliffs and large sand dunes that loomed over the barren landscape always seemed far ahead, in spite of the fact that the village of Sassubaa was steadily shrinking into a speck of light behind them. Only when Daerazal could no longer see evidence of the village at all did he turn toward the cliffs and begin looking for overhangs, caverns, or any other kind of rock formation that could hide them from a search party.

"Wait—ssh." Kielanai stopped walking and became silent.

Weary and still in pain from their numerous injuries, Daerazal and the others paused in annoyance that she was delaying their chance to rest. But then, they heard it. A soft, low buzz, almost like a hum, was coming from somewhere nearby.

"What is it?" Rindaalyn whispered. "Is it the gate?"

"It sounds like a chorus of low singing," Kielanai realized in astonishment. "_Yonaki Sabaku—_Nightsong Desert."

Rindaalyn crouched and put a hand to the sand beneath his feet. "There's a vibration coming from the land. The dunes are making this noise."

"Or something under them," Daerazal suggested, skeptical that it could be an entirely innocent phenomenon. He scanned the humming dunes for any sign of the portal, but nothing indicated its presence. Finally, he looked back toward the cliffs. "Auniira said her sister guarded the gate during the night. That means we should search for it during day—when the sun burns too bright for Drow eyes. Let's just find a place to get some rest while we can."

He continued forward, leading them toward the rocky cliffs. There, he scaled some unusually shaped pillar formations to find a high overhang sheltering a shallow cavern. The others followed.

Rindaalyn drew the katana he had confiscated from one of the dead Tsaesci and cautiously scouted the back of the deep tunnel to make sure no predators had claimed the space as a den. Then, returning to his three companions with a nod of approval, he pressed his back against the rock wall and slid to the dusty ground in exhaustion. "So, we look for the gate at sunrise? That's probably not too far away," he commented, looking at the stars glittering across the night's horizon.

"Long enough to rest, but not long enough to sleep. Just as well. A desert can be a Drow's worst nightmare. House Nardool may have tucked the portal into a tunnel or cavern facing the desert, rather than risk being blinded—maybe this one, for all we know." Daerazal sat down at the mouth of the cliff to keep watch across the desert. Pulling his sister's charm from the fold in his _hakama_ belt where he had secured it, he transferred it to the empty chain he still wore at his neck. "I think I lost the race amulet," he informed his companions with disappointment.

Setting down her pack and removing her cloak, Kielanai checked her water supply. "We probably don't need disguises anymore. All that's left is to get Chizrae out of the Llothian dungeon and pull the sigil stone from the gate to collapse it behind us, right?"

"Easier said than done." Daerazal removed his cloak and looked down at the stinging cuts and blisters on his arms and chest. "Did you happen to get Auniira's translation amulet before you left?"

Kielanai assumed he meant the female Drow. "No. I didn't know she had one."

Crouched in a ball with his back to them, Talvalo allowed his body to slowly, painfully shift back to his natural elven form. His naked, golden skin was smeared with blood, and his auburn hair looked more like a matted, shaggy mane. But at least none of his victims survived to spread the lupine infection to anyone else.

"Talvalo, you're back." Kielanai dragged Daerazal's travel pack toward herself. The magical pack had proved invaluable for holding the werewolf's belongings, all their armor, a tent, and any food stashes they managed to get their hands on ... in addition to Daerazal's personal items.

"I never left." The battlemage winced in discomfort. "Although, I think I kept the were-form a little longer than I should have. My back is killing me."

"I almost forgot you were an elf because I was getting used to you being a wolf." She found his folded cloak and crawled near to drape it over him. "Are you okay? Would you like some clothes?"

Without fur, Talvalo shivered in the cool night air and pulled his cloak further around himself. "I'll live … and yes, please."

"I wish I hadn't seen all that, though. It was rather grim," she added. "I'll never be able to look at you the same way, I'm afraid."

The Altmer looked over his shoulder, insulted. "My ass doesn't look that bad."

Kielanai blinked in response. "I was talking about the werewolf attack."

"Oh."

"Fear the wolf ass, for it is fearsome," Daerazal muttered from the mouth of the cavern.

Rindaalyn chuckled at the Drow's droll commentary.

The battlemage cast his brother-in-law a baleful glance for it.

The bard sighed with wane patience. "Do you need additional healing, or not?"

"No, I'm ... I'm good," Talvalo wearily lowered himself to the dusty floor to huddle beneath his cloak.

Kielanai passed him a change of clothing from the bag, then turned her attention to Rindaalyn. "What about you?"

"I'm fine," he answered, but then the bard took his arm and turned it slightly for him to see a long cut underneath his elbow down to his wrist. He made a face wondering why he hadn't noticed that before. "Must have been a Tsaesci katana."

"You move quickly, like Daerazal," she answered, casting a healing spell into the wound. "I can't move so fast. The priestess's whip caught me first shot."

"I don't think any of us are fast enough to avoid those whips. I hate those things." Rindaalyn paused, thoughtful. "How do you think your uncle knew what happened before the fight, even though he wasn't there?"

The bard briefly checked a few other cuts that he bore. "I think when I asked them to watch over me, they decided to watch over all of us. And then their souls are invoked through the katana's magic. Or, something like that."

"I wonder what the town will do now that their leader is dead."

"They'll find a new one. That's what all civilizations do when a leader is lost. And now they have a chance to pick a better one."

The youth's copper-colored brows drew together in a frown. "I doubt there is such a thing. All Tsaesci are evil from the inside out."

The bard moved to her travel pack and pulled a soft cloth from it. Then, crawling back to Talvalo's side, she poked a finger at his shoulder. "I need ice."

The battlemage looked over his shoulder to the rag in question, then looked up at her with doubt.

"That's what people say about the Drow, too," Daerazal spoke, turning his chin to see the Ashlander youth.

Rindaalyn's lips pressed together in a sigh. "You're not like the others."

"I used to be."

"Masahiro was right," Kielanai inserted. "These serpents are not a true representation of a samurai. A samurai is a servant—not a tyrant. These Tsaesci have been infected with a disease that makes them crave the blood of others. And it doesn't help that they've apparently learned how to use it for powerful magic. It's different from the form of vampirism in Tamriel, but it's still an abnormal condition. I believe humans and normal Tsaesci still exist in Akavir. They just don't want to be found. Or, maybe they're just waiting for a good leader to help them fight back." The bard poked Talvalo's shoulder again, as she waited for her ice.

The battlemage took the rag from her and sat up to place it against a nearby rock before casting an ice spell that blasted the rag, the rock, and nearly the entire wall behind it. The rag was now as stiff as a piece of wood and loaded with clusters of ice crystals, but he able to pry it loose from the rock and hand it back to her before lying down again.

Pleased with her frozen rag, Kielanai crawled back to her pack and pulled out a small pewter bowl. After scraping the ice clusters into it, she crawled toward the Drow and touched the frozen cloth to a particularly bad whelp on his arm. "This will cool the sting until I can cast more restorative magic on us. But first, I have to make us some water."

Daerazal was hesitant to accept the frozen cloth, but found that it did numb some of the pain. Holding it place, he watched as Kielanai returned to her pack and lifted the bowl of ice. Casting a small ball of fire above her palm, she held the bowl over it and allowed it to warm as long as she could stand it. Then, cooling her hand against the red rock wall, she cast the simple spell again. When she finished, she lifted the bowl to her lips to quench her thirst. After a few sips, she passed the melted ice to Rindaalyn.

Reaching into her pack, she found the stolen bamboo scroll and some writing supplies. "I'll go ahead and try to translate these," she told them as she settled.

Rindaalyn drank down the refreshing water, then tapped Talvalo's shoulder to pass it to him. Turning to face the back of the cavern, the tired scout lay down on the dusty rock and pulled his cloak over himself.

Talvalo drank his portion and passed it along to Daerazal before pulling on his clothes and lying back down to get some sleep, as well. His body needed extra rest to restore his natural state.

Daerazal drank the remaining water. The cold liquid felt good against his parched lips and throat. At first, the scratching of the bard's ink preparations was the only sound that cut through the silence. But after a few minutes, she began to hum a soft tune, as if adding a melody to the mysterious tones rising from beneath the desert. Soothed by the song, the Drow set the water bowl down, placed the cold rag over his chest, then leaned back against the mouth of the cavern to look out over the landscape below.

There were still no signs of a search party or an Oblivion gate, but the stars were beginning to fade already. It would be dawn soon.

Closing his eyes, he tried to visualize the final stages of their journey—a trek across burning sands to find a fiery portal into a lava-emblazoned land, so they could enter the dungeons of the most powerful Llothian House in Guallidurth. His hand went to the sapphire amulet on his chain. How long could Chizrae endure their punishment before they could free her? And what if they failed?

Eyes still closed, he tried not to think about it. Right now, he just wanted to listen to Kielanai's soft voice and the desert's night song.


	26. Chapter 26: Demonweb

Chapter 26: Demonweb

"_Dekita._"

Daerazal's eyes opened. He had accidentally dozed off for a few minutes, and now Kielanai was at his side offering the finished map she transcribed. He drew a breath and tried to look more alert as he sat up and rubbed his tired eyes.

The bard kept her voice to a whisper to avoid waking Talvalo. "This is Sassubaa," she explained, pointing. "I think we are over here somewhere. Rindaalyn might be able to help us pinpoint exactly where." She pointed to some cliffs slightly northwest from the village, then moved her finger toward the central northern portion of the map and tapped another area of cliffs. "This is the portal to Guallidurth. These other places here ..." She indicated several circles that had been named. "They're stone pillars—land markers. If we follow this map correctly, we should be able to find the gate."

Daerazal accepted the scroll and scanned her translations to get an idea of their path through the desert. "Thank you."

"Is that helping any?" She indicated the rag.

"Yes."

"I can probably cast some restorative magic now." Peeling the cloth away, she winced at the raw, crisscrossing wounds. "You've got to stop rushing into things head-first." Gathering restorative energy, she cast the first of several small healing spells over his arm.

"She had Chizrae's translator." He watched as she worked her magic, but then recalled how she had found it for him. "You weren't there to see her take it. How did you know what I was looking for?"

"Well, you were obviously angry about not being able to read Awai-Hebi's papers, but I could have read them for you, if you had asked. That _is_ why I'm here. So, I knew it had to be something else. Then I happened to see the charm on the floor. Since you were searching the floor, and the charm translates, I knew that had to be what you were looking for. I also know how much it means to you, belonging to your sister, so it would have been a shame to lose it."

She started to cast another spell over his shoulder onto his back, but he placed a hand over wrist to interrupt. "I want you to go home."

Kielanai blinked at him wondering if she heard right and sat back on her heels. "Why would you send me home after we've made it this far?"

"We made it through Akavir to the threshold of the gate, and this is probably the last piece of Akaviri information we need translated. Your job is done. I release you from our initial agreement completely. The rest of us can handle going after Chizrae from here. You should use Surane's spell and go back to Kojima."

She couldn't believe she was hearing this. "How will the rest of you get home if I use the Recall spell?"

"Once we free Chizrae from Guallidurth, we can head back toward Menzoberranzan. From there, my teleporting ring can take us to the cavern where I met Shazi in Suran."

Kielanai slowly shook her head rejecting that plan. "You still need me. None of you know restorative magic."

Daerazal frowned and leaned forward. "We have to go into the Underdark next. If we don't manage to escape from House Nardoorl, we will be tortured—and Auniira's snake whip is _nothing_ compared to what goes on in a Llothian dungeon. If we _do_ manage to escape, a Drow, a snake-blooded Dunmer, and a werewolf have a chance of being left alone in the city. A gold elf bard could get stuck as a slave."

"I'm already playing the part of a slave. I can put up with sleeping in dirt and eating fish bones a little longer if it will save Chizrae and Vivec."

"Kielanai," he snapped her name in urgent impatience and cupped her head in his hands, frustrated that she didn't understand. But as he looked into her lucid, aqua eyes, his tone and his expression softened. "Please ... go home."

"Do you honestly fear for my safety that much? Or are you just still ashamed of the dark places in your past? You allowed me to stand back while you fought the daedra coming through those first gates we encountered. You volunteered to do the Great Gate on your own, so I wouldn't have to. And you made me stay in Seyda Neen while you went to Vivec to fight the other Llothian priestess."

She eased his hands away from her small, sharp ears. "You're a knight. It's your nature to be protective. But you're the one who taught me not to fear the darkness and demons anymore. You reminded me of all the skirmishes I fought and won. You encouraged me to go into the Mythic Dawn shrine, and you believed in me when I said I could do the Great Gate by myself. I am the one who killed Mankar Camoran. I was right beside Martin when Mehrunes Dagon was crashing into the temple. And I _just_ finished helping free you from a Llothian priestess and warriors back in Sassubaa."

Kielanai paused to see if any of this was sinking in. "I may not be a master with swords or magic, but I _am_ strong enough to see this through to the end. Daerazal, you have done so much for me; I _want_ to help." With a sniffle, the bard clasped her golden arms around his neck and hugged him tight. "If your toughest battle is still ahead, don't shut me out when you need me most. We can go into those dark places together ... and together we'll have a better chance of succeeding."

The Drow remained perfectly still in her arms, feeling her tears trickle down his shoulder and back. Such bewildering emotion ... It practically paralyzed him.

"You know, Daerazal," Talvalo grumped behind them, awakened from his short nap. "Technically, I'm the one that asked for Kielanai's help, so I'm the only one that can fire her."

Kielanai and Daerazal both turned to face him ... both of them having forgotten their other two companions were within earshot of their conversation ... both of them wondering at what point their voices had risen above a whisper. Kielanai immediately released her hold on the Drow and wiped her eyes, instead.

The battlemage sat up beneath his cloak. "I can use the wolf form in the Underdark if that's what you think is best, since your scrawny, little kindred don't know how to appreciate us _real_ elves yet. But I have no intention of sending our only healer home. Kielanai stays." Talvalo turned his chin toward her. "If she wants to, that is."

"Kielanai is versatile in swords and magic," Rindaalyn spoke, sitting up as well. "She's inventive and ... creative. She puts up with our complaints and bad humor, but then patches us up and supports us when we need it. She's the glue that holds us together." The youth met her gaze. "I think we still need her. I want her to stay."

The bard smiled sadly in gratitude for their understanding, though she looked somewhat embarrassed she had been so emotional about it in front of them. Making her decision, she faced Daearzal in both defiance and apology. "I'm staying."

Somewhat defeated, somewhat relieved, Daerazal sighed and brushed away a tear that remained on her golden cheek. "You can't do this in Guallidurth. If they spot a weakness, they'll use it against you. Stay close to me, and no matter what I say and do, you _have _to trust me," he told her.

Nodding, sniffling, and drying her eyes, Kielanai started to berate herself for losing control.

Daerazal folded her into a gentle, uncertain embrace. He winced slightly as her arms made contact with the whip cuts on his back, but she gradually relaxed to let her temple rest on his shoulder.

The Drow said nothing for a long moment as he held her. Those dark places she mentioned ... He wanted to warn her further about them, but words failed him. They were too surreal to explain. Instead, he just continued to hold her while the desert's night song became silent under streaks of pink and orange lengthening across the purple sky.

Sunrise ...

When he started to pull back from her to stand, Kielanai didn't want to let go, but she compromised by finishing her healing spells on his back and chest.

When she was done, Daerazal pulled his travel bag near. First, he put on his Dwemer shades. Then, he pulled out his armor, as well as everyone else's. "Heal yourself and suit up," he told her as he dropped her armor in front of her. "It's time to hunt down an Oblivion gate in Akavir."

Rindaalyn gladly traded his simple _hakama_ for his chitin and netch-leather armor. Talvalo forced his body to morph back into a werewolf once more. Daerazal redressed in his black leather armor, slipped a dagger into his boot, and slid both of his swords into his sword belt.

Kielanai cast her remaining magic over her own wounds, packed everything away except the map, and suited up in her elven armor beneath her flowing kimono. Glad to not have to look like a human slave anymore, the bard twisted her long, silver hair around two clean _hashi_ and pinned it high above her ears, allowing a soft fringe to fall around her face. Grabbing her bag and belting _Itai Kokoro_ at the waist of her armored skirt, she turned around to face her companions and let them know she was ready.

Rindaalyn nodded and hopped down the steep rocks toward the desert floor. Talvalo carefully followed. Kielanai was ready to head down next, when Daerazal caught her hand.

"Akaviri-Elf," he commented, gesturing to the kimono over her elven armor and sticks in her hair. "Nice combination." He wanted to say something more. Instead, all he could offer was an unhappy expression for what he was about to lead her into.

The bard returned a small smile for the compliment. "Better than fangs and leather?"

"Yeah, I guess I didn't even consider the whole vampire in the desert thing. That would be about as stupid as taking a gold elf into a Llothian city."

Kielanai sighed at how her decision to stay troubled him and touched his cheek. "I trust you."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he admitted, then released her hand and walked away to leave the shelter of the overhang and climb down the steep rocks to join the others.

))((

The Akaviri desert was anything but friendly. Temperatures rose to dangerous levels as the sun climbed higher in the sky, and for miles there was nothing but windswept dunes in sight. Dust clouds stung their eyes and scratched their parched throats. A patch of small rocks here ... A patch of large rocks there ... Eventually, the landmarks led to numerous steep cliffs similar to the ones they had initially sought shelter under.

"There," Kielanai declared as sand swirled around her in a strong gust of wind. But she had no sooner pointed to it, than they were all able to see the outline of a fiery portal between the twisted rock formations. "Not a Drow in sight, by the looks of it."

"Is there water in there?" Rindaalyn coughed, wiping the sandy grit from his chapped lips.

"Rivers of lava," Kielanai answered. "There's water in the Underdark, though, right?" she asked of Daerazal. "There has to be if there are populated cities down there."

He folded the map that had guided them there. "Water exists. Reaching it is another matter." The Drow drew his hood low over his dwemer-shades to help shield his face from the blowing sand.

Everyone was thirsty, hungry ... tired. But they had to keep going. "Remember, don't get distracted by any daedra around the thing—get in, find the tower, grab the stone, get out." He paused to unsheathe Spider Bite. "If we waste time and energy fighting in Oblivion, we'll be in worse shape entering Guallidurth. Once we enter House Nardool, I don't know when, or if, we'll get a chance to heal again."

Tucking the map into his travel bag, Daerazal began to walk—then run—across the vast expanse of shifting sand toward the cliffs.

About half-way toward the gate, however, the sand shifted in a large clump and something sprang out of the ground at him—a Tsaesci warrior. "_Iblith!_" the Drow cursed and quickly brought Spider Bite to bear against the long _naginata_ that was thrust toward him. Drawing his new katana, he coupled it with his spider sword to sandwich the pole-arm, twist it away, and then slice straight through it, before turning on the warrior behind it.

Lying beneath sand-covered rugs in pits dug into the ground, the snake-men had obviously been assigned guard duty for the daylight hours that the sun-blinded Drow could not attend. The Tsaesci hissed, snapped their various katana, _naginata_, and _yari_ into offensive positions and slithered quickly through the sand in an arc formation to surround the four intruders.

The werewolf leaped over a pole-arm that swept toward him, knocked the serpent samurai down, and tore into him gusto. But the Drow knew battle in these conditions could lead to death by heat stroke sooner than death by weapon-inflicted injuries.

"Too many … There's too many of them!" Kielanai drew her katana, but cast a fireball at the Tsaesci that was nearest to her. "Rindaalyn, summon Kiumiko!"

The scout had started to draw his bow, but nodded in agreement with her idea and stretched his arms to the sky. Reaching out to the heart and mind of the murdered child, the Ashlander once more invoked her spirit through Kielanai's katana.

"_Kiumiko! Tasukete!_" Kielanai cried out before side-swiping an oncoming _yari_ and slicing her katana down into the snake-man's shoulder, cleaving into his neck. Spinning around, she blocked a second attack from a_ naginata. _Wise to her injury from her fight with Kuroi-Dokuga, however, she crouched to the ground, used her katana to force the blade high, and reached beneath the pole to kick the Tsaesci in the stomach. As he stumbled back, she was able to deliver the killing blow.

Magical winds swirled around them with intensity as Kiumiko's ghost entered the mortal world. The small child's short silver hair whipped around her face, but unbothered by the sand and grit, she set her vengeful gaze on the army of snake-men. Thrusting her hands before her, she uttered a magical command to call her storm once more. Unnatural, ominous clouds clustered above the Tsaesci, then split the air with a crack of thunder to rain down crushing hail and ice.

Leaving the small, but powerful spirit to combat the majority of the Tsaesci horde on her own, Rindaalyn ran toward Kielanai. "Let's go! We can break through their formation over there!" He pointed to their left where Talvalo was managing to take down quite a few of the serpent warriors by running them in circles, biting at their tails, and leaping at their vulnerable torsos.

Daerazal nodded in agreement.

Racing through the harrowing storm toward the werewolf, the three elves joined the werewolf in combat to cut a swathe through the Tsaesci line. Once through, they kept on running, frantic in their dash for the cliffs. Talvalo was hot on their heels.

Some of the Tsaesci horde tried to chase them down, but legs had the advantage over serpentine tails, especially when it came to climbing rocks. When they finally reached the fiery portal tucked within the cliff formations, they skidded to a halt. Inside the portal's flames was an oval shaped structure bordered with silver webbing, and at the center of that was a black, starry void. It didn't look like an Oblivion gate at all, but, Daerazal pushed ahead of his other three companions and leaped through it.

Instead of landing on broken earth surrounded by lava pools, his boots touched down on a thin, silver web that stretched across a void of darkness. Stopping to catch his breath, he stared open-mouthed at the impossible change in surroundings until all of his companions burst through the portal to land on the webbing beside him.

"What is this place?" Kielanai asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Did we skip Oblivion somehow? Is this the Underdark?"

"No." Daerazal removed his Dwemer sun-shades and tucked them into his travel pack, then turned to look at the gate behind them. From this side of the portal, the oval structure looked the same, but the flames burned deep violet and the starry void became a blurred view of the rocky cliffs on the other side. In all directions within the portal, the web stretched into endless darkness with strands of webbing twisting into crisscrossing, suspended, tunnel-like tubes. The only light in the entire void came from the soft glow of the web itself. Visibility was limited to what was immediately near it. Not even the Drow's sensitive night vision could detect anything further.

"Then ... where are we?" Rindaalyn asked, anxious about the unnatural surroundings.

The answer was obvious to the Drow. He had not considered this possibility, yet their experience inside the realm of the spirit bridge should have warned him that this might happen. "It's the Abyss—the Oblivion of my own world. And this portal was created by Lloth—not Mehrunes Dagon," he informed his Tamrielic companions. "We're inside the Demonweb."

"Well, that sounds lovely," Kielanai sardonically commented. "Where's the central citadel?"

"There might not be one."

"If there's no citadel, where do we look for the sigil stone?"

Daerazal was at a total loss. "I don't know."

Talvalo growled and used hand-sign to communicate with the Drow.

"Yes, I know there has to be _something_ powering this gate," Daerzal snapped, then tried to think through the problem clearly based on what he knew about his own people and their magic. "Since House Nardool constructed the Akavir gate, maybe it holds the source of power for the Guallidurth gate."

"Like ... how a tunnel connects two places," Rindaalyn suggested. "Blocking either end of a tunnel will prevent passage from one side to the other."

"Or, destroying Portal A will destroy Portal B, since the first portal was used to spawn the second one." Daerazal looked to his companions to see if they followed his logic. "I'd say the sigil stone is at the Guallidurth gate. That's the gate we should destroy, and it should be relatively near this one."

"Then we should scout the area around this portal, but take care not to lose it." The Drow moved cautiously across the webbing straight ahead of them until he came to the tube. A short distance into it, however, he was forced to pause and re-evaluate his sense of direction. Here, the tube webbing was more solid, slightly sticky, and branched in multiple directions. Each branch then seemed to branch again, and so on. It was a horrible maze to try to figure out. Slowly, he stepped into one of the intersections and peered down the branches to his left. It was an eerie sight. Various buildings, trees, statues, and even ships appeared to be snared in various places around the web, as if caught in a net and left suspended.

"How did all these these things get in here?" Rindaalyn quietly asked, still trying to keep the portal behind them within sight.

"I've heard that the Demonweb forms random portals to different worlds, since it's in the domain of chaos. Whatever gets sucked into the portal gets stuck in the web," Daerazal explained.

Kielanai stared at the upside down ship hanging from the upper webbing of the branch tube. It looked like a shipwreck without an ocean, and the longer she looked at it, the more it made her skin crawl. "Do we have to go through there?"

"I don't think our portal is down there," the Drow answered. "The Guallidurth portal was made by demons at the request of House Nardool. It should look more like the one we came through—a planned design amid the chaos."

))((

Though she had told him she was no longer afraid of demons and darkness, Kielanai began to feel more anxious about this strange place. It was not blatantly grotesque or violent like Oblivion, but there was something subtly sinister and deeply disturbing about it. No breeze stirred in the void. The air itself felt abrasive. Soft clicking sounds could be heard in the distance, though she wasn't sure if it came from ahead, above, below, or behind them. "I suppose it would be stupid to ask if there are spiders in here."

"I'd sure hate to see the spider that created this," Rindaalyn answered, "considering the infinite size."

"Lloth probably spun it herself." Daerazal turned back and continued down the first tube to the right.

Kielanai wondered now just how big the Spider Goddess's avatar could be, but then considered the size of Mehrunes Dagon and shuddered.

As the group followed Daerazal, Kielanai studied the webbing that encompassed them. Underfoot it was solid and sticky, meaning each step met with slight resistance. The wall webbing was softer and more like a sponge. It looked wet and more sticky than the floor, and it had globs of clear Abyssal matter between the more loosely woven strands.

The bard reached a finger to touch the matter, expecting it to string like honey, but a dark face distorted in pain suddenly appeared through the transparent globule from the other side. Kielanai jerked back away from the wall and nearly screamed, but covered her own mouth in time. When her three companions turned to see what had caused such a reaction, she pointed to more distorted faces and bodies twisting in pain behind the sticky windows in the webbing. It was a horrifying sight, even worse than looking upon the _mizuko_, because these faces looked real.

Daerazal crept close to watch them writhe and claw at their entrapment for a moment. "Souls of the damned," he guessed. "Probably not a good idea to release them. Try not to cut through anything." Shrugging them off, he kept walking.

"If they're in pain, they might be grateful we released them," Rindaalyn suggested. "They might even help us fight House Nardool."

The Drow stopped and faced him with a frown and a firm tone. "If we set them free we could end up just like them. Nothing down here will offer gratitude or help without a blood price."

"If we accidentally cut through this webbing, is there a bottom?" Kielanai asked, looking through the floor webbing into the void beneath her feet as she tried to stay away from the walls.

Daerazal looked at the webbing below and above him. "There are infinite layers in the Abyss. I don't know how many layers there are in the Demonweb. I'd say you'd eventually hit more webbing." It wasn't much of an answer, but it was the best he could offer to make them realize the hazards of their situation. He decided to leave it at that and turned to keep walking.

Talvalo placed his large hands on the shoulders of the other two elves and urged them to stay close to the Drow ... to keep going.

))((

It wasn't long before other trapped things began to appear in the webbing. Lifeless monsters, small and large, hung in cocoon-like clusters stained with black ichor and crimson blood. Something had fought them. Something had drained them. But that something was nowhere to be seen.

"Why isn't anything attacking us yet?" Kielanai quietly asked.

"I don't know." This had bothered Daerazal as well. "Spiders know when anything enters their webs. They can feel the vibrations of movement along the anchor lines. I'm sure we're being watched."

"Oh, you're definitely being watched," a female voice agreed.

All four companions stopped and searched urgently for the source.

"Watched, surrounded ... ensnared." A Llothian priestess stepped into view from one of the side branches of the tube. Five Drow warriors came from the branches between her and the four intruders. Three driders came from the branches behind them. She waited to enjoy the shocked expressions on the intruders' faces when they realized all their exits were blocked. Then, she smiled, cracked her whip, and stood perfectly still as a monstrous red and black spider came from behind answering her call.

Its long, spindly legs were so tall that its underbelly went right over her without so much as touching a hair on her snow-white head … and it headed straight for them.

"_Iblith!_ Their bolts will be poisoned!" Daerazal warned his friends.

The warriors immediately drew their hand-held crossbows and fired.

))((

Kielanai drew a shield spell over herself to avoid being hit with the bolts, but something was strange about the casting. She couldn't tell what.

Daerazal was struck in the arm, but his lifetime of sampling poisons gave him enough immunity that all he had to worry about was removing the bolt itself.

Rindaalyn whipped his leather shield from his back in time to catch two of them.

Talvalo stayed behind his friends, using them as a protective wall until the monstrous spider drew near. Then, spranging into action, the werewolf climbed one of the hairy legs onto its head to gouge out its eyes and claw into the hard chitin.

The priestess summoned hundreds of smaller spiders from nowhere to squeeze through the webbing around them and drop over them from above. The warriors drew their melee weapons and charged forward, while the driders charged from behind.

Rindaalyn drew his katana and took on two of the Drow warriors at once. There was no time to try summoning a spirit for aid.

Daerazal ignored the bolt in his arm, flipped Spider Bite in his grip, and slashed his way past three of the other Drow warriors, in effort to get to the priestess at the back.

Kielanai stepped behind him and cast small fireballs at the spiders dropping through the webbing, but those small fireballs exploded with huge impact. Gasping in astonishment at her own potency, she realized what had felt so strange about her shield spell before. Being the realm of chaos, her magic was distorted. Her offensive spells were twice as explosive, while her defensive spells were only half as effective.

Watching the spiders burn to an ashen crisp, she worried she might have endangered the tube's webbing. As the flames died down, however, she saw that the indestructible tube remained unharmed.

))((

Talvalo attempted to steer the large, blinded spider past the driders and out of the web tunnel toward the open walkway near the Akavir portal. One of those driders climbed up the wall webbing and drew two scimitars as it leaped onto the monstrous spider's back. Talvalo inhaled sharply and breathed out air cold enough to freeze the drider solid. It was the only magic he could invoke as a snow wolf while in were-form. Then the werewolf slammed a fist into the creature, shattering it to pieces.

The werewolf continued to steer his runaway spider toward the open webbing. Then, when it was almost at the edge, he jumped off. The monstrous spider fell into the void and spiraled out of sight without a sound. Talvalo sighed in relief, but then was struck and pushed from behind. He would have spilled over into the Abyss as well if not for his sharp claws catching the outer webbing and sticking fast to it.

As he dangled above the bottomless expanse, one of remaining driders leered over the edge of the net at him, drew a dagger, and stabbed down into his hand. The werewolf yelped and growled in pain, snapping sharp teeth at the nasty half-spider creature. Tearing his other hand free from the webbing to grab one of its thin legs, he jerked it over the edge to follow the monstrous spider into the Abyss.

When he had climbed back onto the solid webbing he tried once more to catch his breath. The palms of his hands burned with such pain that when he turned them over to see flesh and fur had been stripped away, he wasn't surprised. From now on, he would avoid the outer webbing at all cost. It kept whatever it came in contact with.

))((

When the priestess saw Daerazal coming her way, she levitated up to the ceiling of the tube and cast another spell. This time, it was a very sticky web that adhered to the other webbing of the floor and walls, catching and holding everything in its radius. Daerazal cursed his loss of levitation as he struggled to get through the sticky trap. The only good thing about it was that it held her own warriors as well.

Rindaalyn had just gutted one Drow warrior with his katana and threw out his shield to block the other when the spell caught and held all of them fast. Since neither of them could move from their spots, Rindaalyn raised his shield and slammed it hard into the Drow's face, knocking him down into the animated substance. Free for the moment, he easily pierced his prone opponent's heart.

))((

Kielanai was caught within the spell just as one of the driders outside of it gave up on chasing the werewolf and turned on her instead. The drider licked his scimitar with a sinister grin, coating it with poison from his own fangs and quickly ran up the wall of the tube. The bard gasped when she realized his strategy was to attack from directly above her, so she and cast a few more fireballs around her knees and boots to free herself.

She suffered some burns because the fire was larger than her need, but the web spell _did_ burn, and she was able to jump away from the drider just as he dropped from a thin silk-spun cord above her. She was immediately stuck again, of course, but she was able to draw and swing her katana back on him, returning his intentions of beheading her.

))((

The Llothian priestess was beginning to grow impatient with her remaining warriors and drew her snake whip. "Don't just stand there! Kill them! Or do I have to do everything myself!" she shouted.

The warrior closest to Daerazal made a face as if he wanted to slap the bitch for taunting them while he remained trapped in _her_ spell, but he pulled a hand cross-bow and fired point-blank into the rogue Drow's back. Daerazal gritted his teeth at the direct hit and swooned slightly from the double dose of poison from the small bolt, but his body was still able to resist it. The attack, however, gave him an idea. "Rindaalyn, throw me your bow!" he shouted behind him as he sheathed both of his swords.

Rindaalyn was clearly worried that his bow would be dropped and get stuck, but he flipped it from his back and gave it a toss. As the Drow caught it, the scout pulled the quiver from his back, too, but he had no idea how to throw it without flinging arrows everywhere. The item was suddenly tugged from his hands and flew neatly through the air to land in Daerazal's hand. Surprised, the scout looked behind them. Kielanai had cast a telekinesis spell on it to help it along.

Daerazal flipped the quiver over his shoulder, drew an arrow and fired toward the priestess, dropping her to the ground. It took another arrow to actually kill her, but as her spell faded, he turned around and sighted down a third arrow point-blank toward the warrior who had shot him in the back.

The warrior started to protest in surrender.

Daerazal's crimson eyes narrowed, and he released the missile dead-on into the other Drow's throat, sending it nearly all the way through.

With only two Drow warriors remaining in this little skirmish and the web spell gone, Kielanai rushed in on one of them and cast a disintegrate spell on his armor and his weapon. Rindaalyn came in behind him and finished him off with his katana.

Flipping the bow onto his back, Daerazal confronted the last one by drawing Spider Bite and holding it wide open—an invitation. But when the other Drow struck forward with a battle axe, Daerazal drew the katana into his other hand to block it from a backwards angle and swirled Spider Bite in his palm to slice deftly into the other warrior's open torso.

Silence …

))((

As Talvalo rejoined them, the four breathless companions waited for a moment to see if there were any further ambushes. The werewolf held his raw hands out to the bard and whimpered slightly.

Kielanai cast a healing spell, but got upset at how little it did to help. Looking up at him in apology, she pulled the rag from her pack and tore it into four strips. Then, she wrapped the impromptu bandage over his palms until she could try again when her restorative magic was stronger.

Daerazal flicked the blood from his blades and sheathed his katana, but used Spider Bite to point toward the webbed tunnel from which the priestess had emerged. Rindaalyn nodded in short agreement. After the Drow returned the Ashlander's bow and quiver, he pulled the poisoned bolt from his arm and turned his back to Kielanai so she could remove the other one.

Kielanai dissolved it easily enough and reached into her pack to recover a couple of soul gems, tossing one to Daerazal so he could recharge Spider Bite. Melding her own gem into the hilt of her katana, the bard followed behind her friends deeper into the webbed maze, but then paused to look over her shoulder.

The Akavir gate was already beyond the glow of the immediate web's light. The only thing behind them was the void of starry darkness. Now they had no way of knowing which direction they had come from, or where they were headed. They only knew they needed to keep moving. She just hoped they didn't get lost in this demented darkness and end up trapped in the Demonweb forever.


	27. Chapter 27: Of Drow and Demons

Chapter 27: Of Drow and Demons

Walking through the Demonweb, the three elves and the werewolf followed the branch where the Llothian priestess appeared. Of course, she could have been there for any number of reasons, but the fact that she seemed to be guarding that portal and understood their speech meant that she was at least magically prepared to discourse with intruders. Daerazal hoped that meant the Guallidurth gate was somewhere behind her. Faced with more webbed branches to choose from, the Drow stayed to his right, peering down each branch before entering, trying to see if there were any other clues worthy of exploration.

Rindaalyn easily picked up on the Drow's methodical logic in trying to figure out the right path through the webbed maze and copied his actions on the left side of the tube. They found more inanimate objects trapped in odd places in odd ways, indicating random portals somewhere nearby. And there were more lifeless creatures wound in cocoons, strung up like some macabre decoration ... or feast, but occasionally they found something new.

After a second Llothian-patrol attack, they followed the branch behind the priestess to find a suspended, web bridge that swayed uneasily over murky black water. How the water came to be suspended without origin or end defied logic, but that didn't stop slimy, multi-appendaged chaos beasts from reaching up through the webbing to try and pull them into depths below. The elves' attempts to avoid being dragged under and drowned swayed the unstable bridge even more, so they were grateful when it connected to the solid web again.

Another encounter with a Llothian patrol led them to climb a sloping web that resembled a rope ladder. As the top leveled off, the tube flattened into a narrow, meandering path that ran between red-silhouetted cliffs. Like the water, the cliffs rose out of the bottomless Abyss defying logic. But as the elves passed between and around various floating rocks, they discovered the cliffs housed hundreds of bat-like cloakers. The flat, black creatures struck at them mercilessly trying to drive them away, but they couldn't be seen at all unless they swooped close to the webbing.

Trying to outrun them was impossible because the path was too sticky, narrow, and curved. Instead the elves had to resort to crawling. Digging their fingers between the strands in the ground webbing and holding on for dear life, they tried to avoid toppling over the edge, as they endured multiple bites and tail lashings from the bat-like beasts.

The party was growing weary by the time they encountered their fourth Llothian patrol, but following the branch behind them led them into a webbed tunnel with ordinary-looking wooden doors. And behind those doors, they found more branches, more trapped things that didn't belong there, and many one-way exits straight down into the Abyss.

One of the chambers had a vampire lair, complete with a harrowing vampire and the skeletal guardians that had once been her victims. But as they continued down the tunnel, they began to see lots of half-eaten corpses littering the passageways indicating the vampire wasn't the only predator that lived there. Some of the bodies were cocooned and strung just like the previous ones, but all were pale, empty husks—dry and brittle. The predator never showed itself, but they could feel its eyes upon them.

"Why won't it just go ahead and attack? I know it's following us," Kielanai whispered, gripping and re-gripping the hilt of her katana. She looked in all directions expecting the doors to pop open so something could jump at her.

"Remember the dremora?" Daerazal answered. "Creatures of dark desires feed on fear before they feed on their prey. They want power over you more than they want you. Don't let them smell your fear."

A short distance ahead of him, Rindaalyn held up a hand signaling everyone to stop. Two doors down, a red light could be seen stretching from the crack under the door across the webbed tunnel. "Azura Almighty, please don't let it be another vampire," he muttered under his breath. This place was beginning to unnerve him, too.

Daerazal sneaked close to the door and put an ear to it. There were voices within, and they were speaking Drow. It was too low for him to understand what was being said, but sobs and moans could be heard intermittently above the conversation. Something terrible was happening within. Hesitating to barge in without knowing what was being said, he returned to his friends. "Llothians—at least one male and one female. Maybe I should attempt to find out what's going on first."

Rindaalyn nodded and moved to one side of the door, while Talvalo moved to the other. "We'll rush the minute anything goes wrong. Kielanai, are your defensive spells working properly yet?"

"No. It's this horrible place. Magic is strange here." She had sporadically tried to heal the worst injuries after their encounters, but her restorative magic was almost worthless now, taking practically all of her magical energy just to heal a couple of bad wounds.

Daerazal had no idea how long they had been wandering, but he could see the fatigue in her face. He was beginning to wonder how much longer she, or any of them, would hold out without proper rest and nourishment, considering everything they had been through. "You're versatile. Be ready with whatever you can manage." He placed a hand on her shoulder and encouraged her to wait back against the wall. Then, he returned to the door, sheathed his spider sword, and pulled open the latch to enter.

Purple and red faerie fire lit the chamber just enough for him to see blood stains on the floor, walls, and alter. Sickening, thick incense filled the air, and a large obsidian statue of the demon goddess's half-Drow, half-arachnid body loomed large against one wall. The statue's tongue and the basin beneath it bore similar stains, and her face bore a frightening expression. One of the statue's Drow arms and three of her spidery legs reached forward, as if to grab anyone that came too near. The other arm was bent to her breast ... her hand clutching a glowing stone that pulsed with magic.

Against the wall opposite the altar of Lloth stood another webbed portal, similar to the one they had previously come through. And beyond it were blurred images of tall, faerie fire lamps in a room with magical markings on the floor—a summoning chamber. Daerazal couldn't believe his luck. He had found both the source and the gate.

"What do you want?" a Llothian priestess demanded of his intrusion.

Daerazal recognized she had been speaking with a Drow arachnemancer—a mage who specialized in spider magic. They were about to deliver their latest offering to the goddess of chaos, a gaunt gold elf, chain-bound on the lower half of the obsidian altar behind them.

"Don't make me remind you, male, that you are speaking to the Second Daughter of House Nardool," she growled in warning.

Daerazal's eyes were so set on their elven sacrifice, that he almost forgot Drow etiquette. Averting his eyes from the female priestess, he bowed his head. "I bring a message concerning the portal, _Jabbress_."

The priestess absently tapped the flat blade of an enchanted, black, spider-shaped dagger at her chin as she assessed the warrior. "The Akavir portal?"

"Third Daughter Auniira has been killed."

The priestess's eyes narrowed. "What?" She wove her way around the arachnemancer to confront the messenger more directly. "Who killed her? Awai-Hebi?"

"There was a rebellion. He was slain, too. The Akaviri alliance is in ruins, and the Tsaesci may consider a Guallidurth invasion to avenge their fallen leader."

Considering the dire news, the priestess no longer seemed upset. In fact, the latter part of the message seemed to make her feel better. The Priestess turned to the arachnemancer with a pious laugh. "Did you hear that? Both Auniira and the snake have been slain," she happily repeated.

"This is good news indeed, _Jabbress_ Iraekha," the arachnemancer agreed, like a puppet.

Iraekha faced Daerzal once more. "Where are the rest of Auniira's guards? Have they fallen back?"

"All lost, _Jabbress_. You could send spies to confirm it, but if the Tsaesci retaliate first ..."

Iraekha paused to consider how battle-weary he looked. "No witnesses except you?"

"None that would be a threat to your security if the Akavir gate is destroyed," Daerazal responded, pacifying her desire to remain free of accusations toward her sister's death.

"Hm, an unfortunate blow to the expedition, but an excellent move toward securing what's been won." She touched the back of his bowed head with gentle strokes to let him know she would consider rewarding him later for looking after her interests. "Perhaps the gate no longer serves our best interests … particularly mine."

"Then, you will not kill me?" the sacrificial gold elf dared to ask from his bound position on the altar.

The priestess approached him with a grin and bent to speak, pressing the tip of her black spider-dagger against his cheek. "We have the Eilistraeen traitor. We no longer have to pacify the snake's demands. And now I have one less knife in my back, since my younger sister was conveniently disposed of. I'm feeling ... generous. I might just let you return to the dungeon."

"No!" he cried and tried to move within his twisted chains. "Don't send me back! Just go ahead and kill me! Please ..." He broke down into miserable sobs.

"Then again," she calmly continued, "Lloth has delivered us from having to complete our contract with the snakes. She deserves our thanks. To take away her offering may displease her."

The arachnemancer's lips curled into a sinister smile as he moved to stand behind the priestess. "If I may make a suggestion, _Jabbress_ Iraekha. Celebrations are good occasions to offer thanks."

"True." Iraekha contemplated the mage's idea as she twirled the dagger tip absently on the prisoner's cheek, boring a shallow hole into his golden flesh. "I should call for a feast to honor Lloth's cunning betrayal of the snakes. We can use this slave for entertainment during the feast and _then_ offer him to the Spider Queen as his final act . That way, Matron Drael and all the nobles of House Nardool can see how Lloth has blessed _me_, but taken Auniira among the damned."

She stopped twirling the dagger and pressed it further into the gold elf's cheek cutting deeper as she leaned close to his ear. "What kind of entertainment shall we have, hm? Do you like to dance? Sing? Heard any good jokes about gold elves lately?"

Withdrawing the weapon, she turned to Daerazal. "Take this prisoner to the dungeon until I have arranged our celebration. I will let Matron Drael know that the Akavir snakes have been defeated by a rebellion, and poor Auniira was lost in the process," she smiled.

"NO! Please! No!" the prisoner cried again and struggled to pull free from his chains, reopening the dirty, bloody wounds on his wrists.

"By your command, _Jabbress._" Daerazal was in pinch now. He couldn't go back for his companions because he had been ordered to go into the house. But he couldn't go into the house because he couldn't leave his companions. He went to unchain the gold elf from the altar as he debated what to do.

))((

Outside the door, Kielanai, Rindaalyn, and Talvalo were able to overhear the conversation, thanks to Daerazal having left the unlatched door partially open. Without the translator charm, no one could understand what was being said. But just when the bard thought this nightmarish realm couldn't get any worse, she saw that they had found a sacrificial chamber. And she saw Daerazal doing something to a chained gold elf on the altar. Her heart felt as if it were going to break hearing the tortured cries of the prisoner.

"What's Daerazal doing to that gold elf?" Rindaalyn whispered, from his position spying through the crack in the door. "He's not going to kill him, is he?"

"He wouldn't do that. He's going to try to free him, so he might need help." Kielanai readied her katana.

On the other side of the door, the werewolf's ears flattened with a soft growl.

They were all in agreement, then.

))((

As he was pulled from the altar, the gold elf sobbed pitifully and stumbled to the floor. But when he looked up at the door, he was astonished to see the face of a female gold elf hiding behind it. And she was armed.

"You! You've come to save me!" Full of hope for freedom for the first time since his capture, he tried to sit up in spite of his chains.

))((

Kielanai put a finger to her lips to warn the prisoner to be quiet, but it was too late.

The Drow priestess turned to see what the prisoner was babbling about. "_Darthiir_!" She snatched the prisoner's chains from Daerazal and pointed to the door. "_Plynn ilta_!"

Kielanai threw the door open and faced the Drow with a frown and a drawn sword. Talvalo stepped in behind her with a snarl, and Rindaalyn was already setting an arrow in his bow.

))((

Daerazal was bewildered by the kill command until he turned and saw his friends in the open doorway. The game was up. The Drow warrior cursed under his breath and drew his swords, but then turned on the Drow priestess.

Only mildly surprised that an unfamiliar warrior would report an assassination before betraying her, Iraekha thrust a hand toward him with a magical command that threw him across the room with force. The priestess then cracked her whip against the floor, sending vibrations through the webbing to call the local predator to her aid.

And as the three intruders rushed into the room, the arachnemancer summoned three huge spiders to intercept them. Then, he cast a Spider Climb spell on himself and used the webbed walls to climb to the ceiling where he could safely hang and cast more magic.

Rindaalyn aimed for the bulbous head of the giant spider on the left. Talvalo grabbed hold of the spider on the right and went after its eyes, much the same way he had the first over-sized arachnid they encountered. This time, however, he got caught in its mandibles. Kielanai lunged sideways to dodge a stream of silk webbing from the spider in the middle and slashed clean through one of its front legs. As it fell, she severed the head.

The arachnemancer, seeing that this trio would soon dispose of his spiders, cast a spell to reanimate the corpse that the bard had beheaded, then he crawled across the ceiling toward the archer. As the undead spider pulled its feet back underneath itself, the mage shot a web spell at Rindaalyn to interrupt his missiles. The sticky stream was strong enough to push the youth back against the wall and glue him to the Abyssal matter that trapped the damned souls.

Daerazal scrambled to his feet with a snarl and rushed forward, ready to take on the priestess again, but a black cloud of magic that not even Drow eyes could penetrate dropped over his head completely blinding him. The warrior didn't panic, though. These spells were common tactics among his kindred. Training with them was the reason he fared so well in the Azura quest vampire fight, but he still hated blind fighting because it forced him turn all offense moves into defense, listening and trying to sense movement in the air near him until the spell dissipated.

))((

Rindaalyn struggled to free himself, but it was no use. He tried to summon a spirit to his defense, hoping Masahiro would answer this call, but to his dismay his magic warped, too. A withered hand from one of the trapped souls directly behind him punched through the softening, clear matter and groped at his shoulder and neck for some kind of leverage to pull the rest of its body through.

The arachnemancer grinned to himself and crawled closer, drawing his dagger, but then halted in his advance, just as pleased to watch the damned finish off the archer for him.

"_Rin-kun_!" Kielanai cast small fireballs around the sticky webbing, trying hard to control their size, so as not to burn him.

))((

The werewolf used his teeth to crunch through one of the sharp mandibles of the spider that held him. Talvalo fell to the ground, but grabbed onto a leg. Pulling with all his unnatural strength, he tore it away from the spider's body, but then the undead spider the bard had killed turned on him, too, trying to grab him with two of its clawed feet.

Having mangled the first arachnid enough that it couldn't fight back, he climbed over its body to tackle the second in the same manner.

))((

"How dare you interrupt my rites!" Iraekha shouted at Daerazal. "Who put you up to this? It was Auniira, wasn't it! I should have known she sent you to assassinate me!"

Seeing she was going to need all the divine favors she could muster against her sister's supposed plans, the priestess hooked her whip back in her belt and dragged the gold elf prisoner back to the altar of Lloth. Pushing him down onto the black marble slab and turning him over, she raised the sacred spider dagger and thrust it into his chest.

))((

The slave's scream tore Kielanai's attention away from her nearly complete efforts to free Rindaalyn, but she was appalled to see the priestess cutting out the gold elf's heart. She felt compelled to do something, but death was already upon him. She was helpless to reverse it.

))((

Iraekha quickly finished her ritual by holding the throbbing heart high toward the statue of the demon goddess and then dropping it into the basin. Blood from the heart was magically drawn through the statue to drip down its long tongue onto the magical stone in its hand, making it pulse with renewed energy.

The Drowess then turned on the magically blinded, cautiously still warrior and raised the dagger, ready to take his heart next for his treachery, when she became aware that something else had come to join the battle. Smirking, she ran for the portal, abandoning the fight.

))((

As Rindaalyn pulled free from the web spell and the groping hands, he grabbed an arrow and let the missile fly toward the Drow mage, interrupting any further casting plans. Another arrow ended them completely. Then, facing the ghost that now had a shoulder and head through the wall, he grabbed Kielanai's enchanted katana and brought a premature end to his own harmful summoning.

))((

Kielanai had been so shaken by what she witnessed with the Llothian ritual that she stood motionless as Rindaalyn and Talvalo continued to fight. But as she watched the Drowess escape, she was the only one to notice the large, mottled, spider demon standing in the doorway. The bard came out of her daze with a loud gasp and grabbed her sword back from the scout. "Look out!"

The bebilith's barbed, spindly legs moved forward, and its mouth opened with a hiss to reveal green, steaming goo dripping from over-sized fangs.

Talvalo and Rindaalyn immediately cleared out of its path, but a stream of silk webbing from its abdomen completely covered the blinded Drow warrior, netting him to the floor.

Daerazal struggled to cut his way through the sticky blanket, but it hardened with each passing second.

As the bebilith crossed the room to cocoon him, Kielanai cast a fire spell, but the bebilith's web did not burn. She cast a disintegrate spell, but it did not dissolve. Frustrated that all these webs had too many irregularities to figure out, and desperate to defend the warrior while he was helpless, the bard finally whirled and cast a fire spell at the demon spider instead. It was a huge, direct hit, but the bebilith repelled the magic and faded from sight.

"Kielanai! Behind you!" Rindaalyn shouted and pointed.

The bard whirled to find that the spider demon had plane-shifted past her to poke a clawed foot through its own netting and hook the neck of the Drow's cuirass.

))((

Daerazal's vision cleared just in time to see green, poisonous goo dripping onto his armor with a putrid steam. One grip, one tug, and the cuirass was sliced wide open.

Kielanai ran underneath its abdomen and used her enchanted katana to puncture the mottled chitin, spilling black ichor over her shoulder. Talvalo leaped onto its back and grappled its front arms, trying to pull them away from opening the Drow's chest the same way that it had his armor. And Rindaalyn joined the bard underneath the monster, using his katana to pry away the cracked chitin and expose its vital organs.

Kielanai struck the vulnerable area that Rindaalyn had opened, and only then did the bebilith finally fall to the ground. The two elves crawled from beneath the heavy arachnoid monster and paused to catch their breath, but the Drow still trapped under its net.

"It's no use. This stuff is indestructible," Daerazal spoke, giving up and dropping his sword to the ground. "Get the stone from the altar and go on without me. Guallidurth is on the other side."

"There has to be some way to destroy this stuff." The bard tried to cast her disintegrate spell on it again, but it resisted her magic.

"Kielanai, this isn't ordinary spider silk; its demon webbing. Like the rest of this place, it's permanent."

She ignored him and used _Itai Kokoro_ to try to cut through the iron-like strands. And when that didn't work, she drew out a dagger to chip and saw at the material.

"Stop it!" Daerazal hooked his dark fingers in the strands of his white cage. "Go find Chizrae and get her out of here!"

"We're not leaving you behind!" she argued, but turned away in order to think. Crossing the chamber floor to stand before the altar, she stared angrily into the statue's blood-thirsty face. Kielanai reached to the pulsing stone and started to snatch it from Lloth's stone-cold grasp.

"Don't take the stone until you're _all_ ready to pass through that gate!" Daerazal urgently reminded her. "You know what happened when you touched the sigil stones in Obilvion. The same thing may happen here, and you'll find yourself in House Nardool—_alone_."

))((

Kielanai stared down at the mindless slaughter beneath the treasure and let her hand drop. The frustration, the exhaustion, and the brutality of the gold elf's murder threatened to bring tears to her eyes once more. And when she looked to her companions, it seemed all of them were feeling just as defeated. But just like her very first Oblivion run, she couldn't stand the thought of leaving any of them behind—not _one—_especially not Daearzal. _No error; no pity_ didn't apply here ... or did it?

"Talvalo, we need _your_ magic," she spoke. "Possibility for error might be the only thing that actually works in a realm of chaos. As wild as your spells are under normal conditions, they'll be even stronger here." She walked to the dead arachnemancer who had fallen to the floor and stripped the indigo, spider-rune robe from his body to drape over the werewolf's shoulders. "You _must_ know of some magic that can help."

Talvalo sighed with worry and turned his back to his friends to force his body through the changes necessary to return to his natural form. When he was through with the painful change, the elf slipped his arms through the borrowed robe and pulled it around himself to tie the belt in place. Then, he turned to face them again. "If your magic is out of control here, mine will kill him."

"Daerazal will be the next one on that altar if we leave him."

"You mean_ if they _can break him out of that."

She went to the trapped Drow and knelt beside him. "I'll try to shield him," she quietly added, knowing it probably wouldn't do any good.

Daerazal shook his head at her persistence, but reached to make contact with her as much as the netting would allow and braced himself to endure whatever the battlemage threw at him.

"Wait," Rindaalyn interrupted with an idea. "You know how I said Kielanai was like our versatile glue? Well, spider silk acts like glue, too, right? But glue softens when it gets wet. Kielanai used fire and ice magic to give us water in the desert, so if you cast an ice spell and follow it with a fire spell, maybe the water will weaken the webbing, yet lessen damage enough to spare him."

Talvalo was thoughtful. "Worth a try. Daerazal, stay under your cloak and don't touch the webbing."

Kielanai drew upon the remainder of her magical energy, concentrated hard, and unleashed as many resist magic spells over the Drow as she could. Then, she backed away and waited, hoping they would be strong enough.

Talvalo concentrated his destructive magic only on the bebilith's silk strands. The blast of ice completely coated the area, and Daerazal's cloak froze solid. One of the resist spells was lost, leaving the Drow shivering with sudden chills, but he remained unharmed.

The battlemage concentrated again, drawing a white-hot ball of fire between his hands. This time, the explosion rocked the room, but the flames licked away the ice with a steamy hiss. The extreme temperatures, raw energy, and water combination made the silk soft and sticky again. Nothing burned away except patches of Daerazal's cloak, but the webbing on which they stood was also softening to a consistency more like the walls. "I can't do any more. The floor might give way beneath us."

Kielanai used her own cloak to smother the small flames. "Are you okay?" she asked of Daerazal.

Another resistance spell was destroyed, but the Drow was alive. "I'm okay," he coughed.

"See if you can cut through it now before it starts to dry and harden again." Rindaalyn knelt to give it a try with his dagger.

"Wait. Give me one more try." The battlemage drew the other two elves away and crouched in front of his brother-in-law. "Stay _completely_ under the cloak," he firmly reminded him.

"You mean what's left of it?" Daerazal snorted. "I don't like being your target practice, Talvalo."

"Then do as I say so you can kick my ass later." Talvalo placed his hands on the webbing and cast a disintegrate spell, but it was an amplified version of what Kielanai had tried. The final resist spell dissolved, but the webbing above it finally began to dissolve, too.

"It's working!" Rindaalyn started cutting away the strands and clumps that melted.

The Drow grabbed his dagger from his boot to aid the scout making the opening bigger, until at last, he was able to squeeze through. Kielanai pulled away the remainder of his destroyed cloak and helped him stand. She gave him a hug to let him know she was glad he was safe, but then backed up to let him peel out of his ruined cuirass. "Thanks for that ... everyone."

When he had exchanged it for the lightweight one from his travel pack, he recovered and sheathed his dropped sword and dagger. "Does anyone need to rest? We can stand two watches at the portal and the door for a few more minutes."

"I can't rest in here." Kielanai cast a sad glance toward the bloody, Llothian altar. "Let's just go on."

"Wereform again?" Talvalo asked with an resigned sigh.

Daerazal considered what might have to be done and frowned to himself. "No," he quietly answered. "Your magic should function normally once we leave the Demonweb, and we may need it."

The Drow walked to the altar and looked down at the mutilated body of the gold elf slave. So many things ran through his mind, but he didn't want to give voice to a single one of them—not yet. He hoped he wouldn't need to.

Talvalo reached into Daerezal's bag and removed his own. He proceeded to change into his own clothing, armor, and mage robe, and then the other two elves joined them at the gruesome altar.

"Why do they do it?" Rindaalyn spoke. "Why do they treat people this way?"

"That's just it. They're not people. They're slaves," Daerazal answered, giving the Ashlander a meaningful glance.

Kielanai slipped her hand into the Drow's hand and then Talvalo's. Then the battlemage placed a hand on Rindaalyn's shoulder, and the scout placed his hand on the bard's back. Their circular link complete, the Drow reached for the magical stone and pried it out of the demon goddess's grasp.

The statue cracked and split as magic snapped and crackled around it with ferocity. Support for the dimensional border collapsed creating a whirling vortex that was already familiar to the bard and the warrior. Bright light burst from portal as they were sucked through it and spit out on the other side, apart from one another. The gate itself flamed violently, cracked, and then exploded sending shards of construction flying all around them.

When everything silenced except the remaining flames, the four elves uncovered their heads from their guarded positions and saw that the Guallidurth gate was finally destroyed.

"Well, if that didn't announce our presence, nothing would." Talvalo sat up to look around. Faerie fire lamps and braziers gave the conjuration room a sinister, red glow. Arcane runes shimmered on the black marble walls and floor in violet, circular designs. They caught the battlemage's attention immediately—not just the ones to summon the portal, but others as well. "Curious ... What kind of pets do Drow usually summon into their homes?"

Rindaalyn winced at a stabbing pain in his leg and sat up to tend to it, when his attention was drawn to a pair of shapely, raven-black female legs instead.

"Drow summon demons, _darthiir_." The priestess that had escaped the previous battle stood in front of Rindaalyn and looked at the magical stone in Daerazal's hand, but answered Talvalo. "Demons ... and the dead." Iraekha had been waiting for them, and she had brought a friend. Behind her, towering above her head, was the purple, green, and black scaled body of a very large, very long snake. Half-way up the snake's naked torso, however, was an ebon-skinned Drowess with six arms. The half-snake woman smiled with a hiss and flexed all six arms to display her beautifully jeweled weaponry—three scimitars, two sabers, and one battle axe.

"Tsaesci? Here?" Rindaalyn was stunned at both her presence and her sheer beauty.

"Marilith," Daerazal warily corrected the youth. "She's not a snake, Rin. She's a demon—and a cunning one at that. Put your tongue back in your mouth and back away." The Drow hooked the Ashlander's armor to pull him away as the marilith sheathed two weapons and stretched two arms to summon more demons to her aid. Two massive, toad-headed hezrou materialized to flank her.

Iraekha laughed. "I'll take my stone back. _Now_, thank you." She held out her slender hand as she moved toward Daerazal and lashed her whip at him.

His armor absorbed more of the sting than he did this time, but Daerazal gritted his teeth and endured the strike in order to tuck the magic stone safely into his cuirass. But, when he grabbed her wrist to prevent her from delivering another strike, the snake heads rose in fluid unison and wrapped around his arm delivering simultaneous pain. The warrior gritted his teeth at the raw, magical pain that shot through his nerves. But Iraekha grinned and raised her sacred spider-dagger to cut out his heart while he remained bound.

))((

The marilith hissed at Rindaalyn, baring her fangs, and swung all six of her beautiful weapons in a quick, fluid wave, ready to dice him to pieces. Behind him, Talvalo cast a Burden spell on all six of her treasures, making them almost impossible to swing ... making it possible for Rindaalyn to dodge.

The scout rolled away and pushed himself to stand, but his leg was in pain because a gate shard had struck him. With an injured leg, he wasn't capable of the stable footing necessary to fight with a sword. Nor was he cable of running away fast enough to gain distance for a summons or bow. The youth found himself facing death six different ways in a fight he could not hope to win.

Talvalo drew his sword and prepared to back him up when one of the hezrou thundered toward him and rammed him sideways into the damaged portal. The battlemage scrambled to his feet and closed in quickly to drain the brute's strength, transferring it to himself. The creature tried to hit him again, but the angry battlemage used his borrowed demon strength to slice halfway through its thick hide. "I've come this far for Chizrae. I am _not_ giving up to a _giant toad_!"

))((

The remaining hezrou slammed its hulking fists into the floor, jarring the elf before attempting to mash him and the bard to a pulp.

Kielanai dodged the heavy attacks and slid behind it to run toward the Llothian priestess. Haunted by the memory of that black spider-dagger carving out the other elf's heart, she wasn't going to give the Drowess the satisfaction of doing it again.

))((

Angry that the battlemage had cursed her speed, the marilith lunged forward with three strikes in succession. Rindaalyn's katana met each strike, but when she came at him again with three _different_ strikes, she threw him off-balance, onto his stomach. The marilith wrapped him in her tail and started to constrict it as she lifted him closer.

Reversing his katana so the blade was vertical and facing out, the scout began sawing through the coils. Spitting, hissing, and more angry than before, the marilith was forced to loosen her grip, but struck at him again as he wriggled free. Behind her, out of reach of all those blades, was the place he needed to be. The scout cast his bow to the floor to improve his mobility, but as he did so, he saw the solution to his problem.

Snatching his spare bowstring from the quiver, he sheathed his katana and used what strength his leg had left to spring from the bleeding coils of her tail onto her arms and back. Without proper use of her lower tail, the marilith lost her balance and dropped two weapons, using two hands to break her fall. The Tsaesci-Ashlander hooked the bowstring under her chin, then hissed next to her ear, displaying his own fangs.

))((

Talvalo attempted to attack the second hezrou in the same manner as he had the first, but this one wouldn't let him have the chance to cast magic. It kept close, always trying to stomp him, always trying to crush him with his fists. The battlemage was still able to deal some powerful strikes with his sword, but his borrowed strength was melting away.

As soon as he saw that their fight had carried them close to a flaming brazier, the elf backed the hulking demon into it, pushed him in, and gutted him. Talvalo wanted to pause and catch his breath, but his attention was drawn by a shout from Rindaalyn. Scolding himself for leaving the youth alone with the marilith, the battlemage ran to help.

))((

Kielanai caught a fistful of the Llothian priestess's intricately woven hair and jerked her head back. Then, reaching for the Llothians' dagger-wielding wrist, the bard twisted the priestess's arm behind her back. Even after Iraekha dropped her whip and released Daerazal, Kielanai continued to keep a white-knuckled grip on her, bending the priestess backwards until she had space to deliver a snap-kick to her spine.

Iraekha grimaced, dropped to her knees, and started swearing a string of curses at the bard. The Llothian's free hand reached behind her and dug sharp, steel-tipped nails into the bard's exposed thigh.

Kielanai gritted her teeth and strained to force the dagger toward the Drowess's own throat. "You like blood sacrifice so much, how about offering your own soul to your damned Spider Queen!"

))((

Daerazal fought to untangle himself from the writhing, snapping whip and cast it to the ground. Trying to shake the lingering pain, he drew his spider sword, and moved around the two female elves locked in combat, intending to take the Drowess from the front while Kielanai held her from behind. But the bard suddenly pushed the priestess forward, snatched her back by the arm, and punched her.

The warrior was surprised at bard's choice of attack, but the fact that the priestess was knocked out cold from Kielanai's punch was nothing short of amazing. When he approached to say something about it, however, she whirled and nearly punched him as well. The warrior dodged, caught her fist in his palm, and frowned at her.

Kielanai winced in agony at the pain in her broken hand, but then her eyes widened and filled with tears. "Oh no! I'm so sorry. I thought you were another Llothian. I can't let them use that dagger again. I just can't! These people don't need to _summon_ demons. They _are_ demons!"

"I know," he quietly agreed and gestured for her to calm down. The Drow made no attempt to defend himself against the bard's accusations regarding his former kindred.

"Speaking of demons ..." Talvalo spoke from across the summoning chamber. He was crouched, hands folded on the hilt of his vertically poised sword, waiting for them to notice Rindaalyn.

The scout sat straddle-legged on the back of the dead marilith with her throat, arms, and torso wrapped in bowstring. He had killed his first demon, all by himself, but he looked like he was about to pass out from the effort.

"_Rin-kun!_" Kielanai ran to his side to heal his bloody leg. Her magic worked properly this time, so she cast a restorative spell on her broken hand as well.

Daerazal picked up the jeweled weapons around the dead marilith and offered them to the scout. Perking up a little at his new weapon options, Rindaalyn lifted two of the jeweled scimitars. The Drow cast the Dunmer a flat expression and promptly took back the unenchanted one. "Who do you think you are, Drizzt Do'Urden? You don't even know how to use dual blades." The warrior put the remaining weapons into his magical pack.

"I will someday." Rindaalyn extended his arm to admire his new scimitar. The Ashlander had a fine magical weapon at last, but he had come a little farther than Vos to get it.


	28. Chapter 28: Mortal and Immortal Chains

Chapter 28: Mortal and Immortal Chains

"Do you still have Jiub's directions to the dungeon?" Daerazal asked of Kielanai as he tied his pack.

Kielanai dropped her bag to search for the thief's hand-drawn blueprints of the Llothian lair. "We have to look for a large hall with stairs leading down three levels. He said there were wall tiles with black skulls that were trapped with poisoned darts. There's a mechanism that springs the trap in one of the columns at the head of the stairs. Actually, he said the whole dungeon was full of traps."

"Large hall means lots of guards. Okay, let's finish this." Daerazal stood and went to the entrance of the summoning chamber. As the other elves packed, he cracked one of the doors to scan the corridor. When he was certain it was safe, he led the way to the end of the hall.

Giving up on the map, Kielanai closed her bag, and followed. The bard was awed by the dark marble walls, lush rugs, and silver web-design sconces that held just enough blue faerie fire to barely illuminate the elaborate furnishings. In contrast to the Demonweb, this darkness was mysteriously beautiful. She could even imagine it being comforting, if not for the horror she had witnessed from its inhabitants. The bard wondered if this was what Daerazal's home in Menzoberranzan was like, or if it was the inspiration behind Chizrae's moon garden.

She was immersed in admiration of the splendid Drow home, when something grabbed her shoulder. Startled, Kielanai turned.

Talvalo put a finger to his lips as he gestured down. It was a warning that she was about to step on a dog-sized red and black spider.

Kielanai drew her sword, but since the spider did not attack, she walked around the complacent creature. Beyond it on the wall to her left, she spotted a brood of baby spiders just like it. The bard shuddered and released her assumption that this place could ever be comforting.

The hallway opened into a large room that appeared to be the main foyer of the palace-like fortress. Daerazal drew back into the shadows and gestured for his friends to do the same. "The number of guards or decorations help indicate which doors led outside or to the House shrine," he whispered. "But the door leading to the dungeon needs to go down." Two sunken alcoves marked by four columns existed near the back of the foyer. The dungeon stairs had to be in one of them. "Talvalo, do you have any magic that can reveal the trapped column?"

The battlemage shook his head. "I can spring it once we find it, but I can't search from here."

"And I don't suppose you have any invisibility spells either."

The Altmer shook his head again.

"Okay. Wait here." Daerazal inched his way forward and stuck his head around the corner of the hall. "_Psst! Doer ghil whol natha drada_," he whispered, beckoning the guard to come to him.

Kielanai wasn't sure drawing one of the guards toward them was such a good idea.

The guard frowned, but strode toward him to see what he wanted. "_Vel'bol?_" he groused in annoyance. As soon as he followed Daerazal around the corner, however, he spotted the three other elves hiding in the shadows behind him. "_Vel'bol zhah aluin pholor ghil?_"

Daerazal blocked him from drawing his hand-crossbow, drew his dagger, and slit his throat with the ease of a seasoned assassin. Pulling the _piwafwi_ cloak from the guard's shoulders, and taking his crossbow and poisoned bolts, he donned the items himself. As the Drow drew the _piwafwi_ across one shoulder and blended perfectly into his surroundings.

"An invisibility cloak?" Kielanai whispered in question.

"Not exactly, but it has a chameleon enchantment that hides body heat from infravision. They're very common down here because your best defense is not being seen," he explained. "Wait for my signal," he told them as he removed his boots and tucked them under his arm. For all practical purposes, the Drow had become invisible in the darkness.

Rindaalyn crept forward behind him, drew his bow, and kept close watch on the other dark elves in the room guarding various exits. Talvalo drew close behind the scout's shoulder. Kielanai did the same, but she saw no trace of their warrior companion as he was supposedly sneaking around the guards to test the columns.

"_L' videnn zhah harl wun l' lar'aen cuass'ili! Udos inbal velg'larns wun l' qu'ellar!_" someone suddenly shouted behind them.

Kielanai looked back to see that a Nardool priestess from the other end of the hall had gone into the summoning room. She obviously didn't like what she found there, but on her way to warn the guards, she had run into the three intruders hiding in the shadows of the corridor.

The guards in the main foyer heard her shout, and the majority of them drew their weapons and rushed toward the hall.

"Great. I'm really starting to hate these spider-loving bitches," the bard muttered then cast shield spells over all three of them, just in time to protect them against the poisoned darts.

))((

Daerazal heard the shout, too, but resisted the urge to run to the aid of his companions. Instead, he used the distraction of the guards to run across the foyer to the other alcove. Anxious to complete his search for the dungeon, he put his ear to the column and tapped. This time, it had a hollow place. Pulling the _piwafwi_ wrap from his shoulder to become partially visible once more, he flashed a hand-sign to Talvalo.

))((

Talvalo saw it, but the battle against House Nardool had already officially begun. The battlemage cast a lightning spell that shot through half of the Drow guards rushing them, then he summoned a few daedra to help handle the other half.

Rindaalyn dared once more to cast his ancestor spell, calling Masahiro to their aid. The Akaviri ghost had no sooner appeared when he rushed out alongside the daedra to meet the oncoming Drow. The Dunmer scout then ran to the other side of the corridor and began picking off warriors that had not been struck by the Altmer's magic.

Hit in the back by summoned spiders that crawled over her head, shoulders, neck and arms, Kielanai shrieked and cast a fireball toward the priestess behind them.

Drawing his sword, Talvalo cut a swathe through the remaining warriors to the pillar Daerazal had indicated. The former pirate turned to parry and run-through a Drow that followed him, but then placed a hand over the pillar's locked panel that hid the trap. Casting a spell to pop it open, he was able to disarm it. When their escape route was ready, he checked over his shoulder for the progress of his other companions. "Rindaalyn! Kielanai!"

"There's more guards coming. I've got your back. Just keep it open!" Daerazal quickly cloaked himself in the _piwafwi_ once more.

Rindaalyn's arrows had run out, so he stole a hand-crossbow and bolts from one of the defeated guards before switching to the marilith's scimitar, which seemed to cut through his remaining opponents like butter. "_Arigatou!_" he called to Masahiro, leaving him to take on the last two guards in the hallway.

))((

Daerazal ran after the few that headed toward the exits—areas where the barracks, magic lab, and private quarters could provide the bulk of the ruling House's fighting force. Because of their number and the way they dispersed, he wasn't able to catch them all, but he did stop a few from escaping by shooting poisoned bolts at them from his stolen hand-crossbow. The poison had little to no effect on the other Drow, so he had to make sure each shot counted toward killing or crippling their oncoming adversaries.

But since the Drow had developed magical methods of hiding in the dark, they'd had also developed expert ways to find someone hiding in the dark. A few well-thrown faerie fire spells did the trick, lighting up his cloaked figure in harmless, but brightly glowing, purple flames.

Visible to his opponents now, Daerazal cast a sphere of Darkness upon one guard closing in on him and fired one last bolt into another levitating above him before trading his ranged weapon for his blades. Then, he spun to meet the attack that he heard coming behind him. The other Drow met him with a double-bladed pole-arm, spinning it over his own head before slamming it down into Daerazal's.

Their weapons locked, but the other warrior quickly drew back and flipped the pole in attempt to disarm him. Daerazal released Spider Bite with a small toss as the pole-arm spun toward it. It only took a second for the other blade to pass neatly underneath it before he could catch it again.

The Drow that had levitated above him landed behind him. Daerazal turned both of his blades under and up, thrusting back to catch him. Dropping to his knees to dodge an extremely close hit from the Drow in front of him, he jerked his blades free and slashed them into the kneecaps of the other warrior. Though the guard went down injured, Daerazal flipped the katana over his hand to finish him off—no witnesses.

))((

The priestess had the bard by her long silver hair. The attempt to pin it back neatly was lost, as well as the two _hashi_. Kielanai had suffered enough tiny spider bites that the poison in her system was beginning to affect her reflexes, and she was entwined in the painful snake-headed whip. After hearing Talvalo's call, she managed to pull her katana tight and vertical to her chest. Dropping to one knee, she thrust her long, curved blade, straight up between the priestess's shorter arms through the bottom of her chin. The Llothian priestess fell dead on top of her. Gasping from the pain and the poison, she withdrew her blade and raked the dying snake whip away.

As she ran to catch up to her male companions, she attempted to brush the remaining spiders from her back and hair. "Get them off! Get them off of me!" She turned her back to them and Rindaalyn and Talvalo brushed, swatted, and dusted the small arachnids away as much as they could, while she cast healing spells on herself.

As she healed, she saw the sphere of darkness fade from the remaining Llothian guard behind Daerazal. It didn't take long for Spider Bite to finish him off, but they had no time to waste. With the darts in the black skull wall tiles disabled and a roomful of bodies behind them, the four intruders then rushed down the three levels of stairs that Jiub had said led to the dungeon.

"A couple of them got away to alert the rest of the House," Daerazal warned. "We don't have long before Matron Drael attempts to flush us out."

"Is there an exit down here?" Rindaalyn asked.

"Don't worry about finding an exit. That's what the Recall spell is for," Talvalo reminded them.

"Did you get all of the spiders? I think I still feel a few under my hair and inside my armor." Kielanai tried to give her hair a shake and reach odd angles behind her back.

"Shush, you're making my skin crawl," Talvalo muttered.

"Oh, your skin hasn't properly crawled until you've been covered in hundreds of spiders," the bard growled in response.

"What's next on the map?" Daerazal urged.

Kielanai tried to remember Jiub's drawing. "The door down here requires a keystone. The keystone recesses are all trapped with magic, but Jiub said the guards had one."

Daerazal readied his blades, prepared to take on more Drow warriors, but skidded to a halt when he reached the bottom of the stairs. His three companions collided behind him as two massive goblinoids hefted halberds and advanced. "I'll bet he didn't tell you the guards were bugbears."

To be so large, the bear-faced creatures were surprisingly alert and fast. When one halberd swept right in front of Daerazal's nose, barely missing him, the Drow caught the pole arm with his katana before it could sweep backwards on him. "_Usstan sila rothen!_" he angrily fussed.

"_Usstan xuat zhaun dos!_" the thick-furred goblinoid growled back at him.

Kielanai blinked in surprise. Was he actually negotiating with these nasty creatures, instead of fighting?

"Talvalo ... Kielanai ... drop your weapons!" Daerazal ordered over his shoulder. The Drow released his block on the bugbear's halbred, and grabbed Kielanai, snapping her to his chest and holding her in a headlock with Spider Bite's blade to the outside of her throat. "Talvalo, submit to Rindaalyn! Now!"

Shocked and confused, Kielanai dropped her uncle's precious katana. "Daerazal, if this is a joke, it's not funny," she told him under her breath.

Talvalo reluctantly, dropped his sword, too. Rindaalyn hesitantly grabbed Talvalo's robe and raised his scimitar to the Altmer's chest, but he wondered at the Drow's sudden change in demeanor.

"_Udos sila rothen_," Daerazal repeated to the bugbear with a snarl. "_Plynn l' sarolen ulu l' kostith mamulen_," he ordered.

The bugbears' eyes narrowed on him, but then one of the guards picked up the dropped weapons, pulled a keystone from his belt, and fitted it into a wall recess. The door became transparent, and the bugbear with Kielanai's and Talvalo's weapons was able to walk through. Daerazal glanced over his shoulder to Rindaalyn, then dragged Kielanai over the threshold into House Nardool's dungeon.

The cells were lit with the dim, sinister glow of red faerie fire trapped in orb-shaped lanterns. The floors were littered with straw, dung, and the remains of former tenants, one of which was being feasted upon by a large caterpillar-like slug with tentacles and sharp mandibles. The stench that permeated the air was enough to make Kielanai gag, but she wasn't sure if it was coming from the creature or the mixture of vomit and death rot that surrounded it.

Aside from distant moans, sobs, and an occasional scream, the only immediate sign of life was a couple of green-skinned goblins carrying water and mops to a raised cage that a bugbear was lowering. As the hulking goblinoid released the thick, iron chain, dropping it little-by-little, Kielanai could see a strange, growling hound with glowing, red eyes pacing impatiently within the cage. It was a frightening looking creature, but perhaps no more frightening than anything else they had encountered on their journey here. What truly frightened her was what lay behind the creature—the upper torso of a half-chewed human hung from chained manacles.

The bard turned away quickly, unable to bear looking at it, but instead found herself facing something potentially more disturbing. A door a short distance away was splattered with blood stains, and the floor beneath it had large, dried puddles. But humanoid footprints had smeared a fresh layer over it, both coming and going. It was obviously a torture chamber. She snapped her chin away and kept her eyes on the floor directly in front of her, hoping no one would open the door or come out of it while she was standing there.

Daerazal said nothing to comfort her as he dragged her along with his deadly blade still at her throat. The bugbear that held their surrendered weapons took them to a holding chest as the warrior had demanded, but that chest was guarded by two Drow who eyed them suspiciously as they entered the area. "_Sel rothen._" Daerazal shoved Kielanai forward, as if to show her off.

"_Obok darthiir?_" One of the guards grinned and casually approached. He looked the two high elves over, sighing in a pitying manner. "_Fridj 'zil al. L' vaen uss zhahus naut ves bwael._" He cast a nod toward the lowered cage with the half-eaten torso that the goblins had been sent to clean away from the snarling hound.

Daerazal glanced at the suggested hound's cage. "_Naut gaer; naut quin. Vel'klar zhahen l' vaen kul'gobussen plynnet?_"

The guard cast a wane glance toward the younger, lighter-skinned dark elf beside the warrior, but then pointed toward a door at the back of the antechamber's corridor. "_Dormagyn l' jaluk whol l' yathrinen. F'sarn zhaunus nind orn ssinssrin ulu jivvin ust. Dormagyn l' jalil whol udossa._" He went to another chest to retrieve some chains, giving Daerazal a sly grin and a wink before passing him and Rindaalyn the slave gear. The other Drow guard behind him lazily stood and removed a keystone from his belt.

Kielanai was lost to the conversation, but her eyes widened in disbelief when Daerazal released her from his hold to step in front of her with the handful of chains. He did not meet her gaze as he locked and pinned an iron collar on her, or when he roughly removed her travel pack and tossed it to the guard before pulling the chains down her arms to cuff her wrists together behind her back. "What are you doing?" she whispered over her shoulder. "This is an act, right? You're not actually going to lock us up, are you?"

One of the other Drow backhanded her with a fist—a hit hard enough to cut her lip against her teeth. "_Zu'tour phor._"

Kielanai was too stunned to say anything back, and too bound to physically retaliate. Rindaalyn and Talvalo stiffened at how she was being treated, but Daerazal said nothing as he handed the ankle cuffs back to the Drow who had hit her. His expression was so void of emotion that Kielanai began to question whether maybe he really was a member of this vile house that had somehow lured them here just to take them as slaves.

When he finished, she watched him show Rindaalyn how to harness their other slave. Talvalo's expression was grim, but he held his composure and said nothing as he allowed the two dark elves to chain him. Though the Ashlander had previously boasted about his culture's right to own slaves, he looked less enthused now that he actually had one.

The Drow guard with the keystone went to the back of the antechamber and touched a warding glyph at the corridor. Several bloodied spikes sprang from the floor. But as the spikes slowly fell back beneath the grill that concealed them, he gestured for Daerazal and Rindaalyn to follow. It was one less trap that they had to undo themselves.

Placing the keystone in its wall recess at the door, the guard allowed them to pass through, but caught Kielanai by her collar. "_Naut myar. Vel'uss zhah il whol?_" he asked Daerazal as he scanned the bard from head to toe.

Considering his expression and tone, Kielanai decided that she didn't want to understand the conversation, after all. All she could do in return was give him a defiant glare.

"_Uns'aa_," Daerazal answered with an arrogant smirk and dragged her away, leading her into the chamber beyond. Rindaalyn and Talvalo followed.

"Let me guess, he took a liking to our bard?" Talvalo whispered when they were beyond the guard's hearing range.

"Something like that," Daerazal whispered in response.

"You _let_ him hit me," Kielanai spoke over her swelling lip.

"Because that's what they do. They take out their frustrations with the priestesses on any females lower on the ladder than they are."

"You didn't have to let him hit me."

"_Yes_, I did." He gave her a frown. "How would it look for me to defend a slave against a slaver?"

"Then I suppose I should be glad I'm not a woman ... or an animal." The Altmer battlemage winced at the soiled, fetid creatures wasting away in the cages here and there in their dark, damp surroundings. They looked like they were being kept for target practice or arena training, but even the unlit areas of the far-reaching aisles beyond their sight hummed with growls of monster races.

"Actually, I was instructed to save you for the priestesses to play with. So for your own sake, I hope you're better than their last plaything. He got fed to the hell hound." Daerazal flatly answered.

Talvalo winced. "And I used to think Chizrae was frighteningly frisky ..."

"It's because we're such _passionate_ people," Daerazal answered, tongue-in-cheek.

"How can you two talk about such a thing so lightly," Kielanai interrupted in accusation. "Words can't even begin to describe that kind of suffering."

"Keeping it light makes it bearable," Talvalo answered with honesty, returning her frown.

"Nothing makes it bearable. Cruelty of any kind is nothing but _cruel_," she sharply returned.

Daerazal abruptly turned right at an intersection and jerked Kielanai's chains behind the second aisle, throwing her back against an empty cage. Covering her mouth with his hand, the Drow checked behind him to be sure that the guard had left and relocked the chamber. Then, facing Kielanai, he kept his voice low. "Do you want to be locked in one of these cages while they dream up multiple ways to use you? I'm _sorry_, okay? But you're better off as my slave than theirs. This isn't Akavir. Sleeping in dirt and eating fish bones would be a luxury in a Llothian dungeon."

"Not even the slavers of Morrowind endure these kinds of conditions," Rindaalyn spoke as he looked at the disturbingly filthy cages around them.

"That's because Morrowind slaves were a business commodity," Daerazal answered. "Here slaves are nothing but front-line fodder, grunt laborers, and _toys_." He looked to Kielanai with a stern expression. "In Llothian societies everyone is disposable, even the nobles, but _especially_ the slaves. Where do you think that sacrifice to Lloth came from back in the portal shrine in the Demonweb? I tried to warn you. I _told_ you to go home."

He paused and removed Chizrae's broken translation amulet from his pocket to press it into her palm behind her back. "_Dos zhaun lu'oh Usstan phlith ulu noa klezn nindel ph' kleel ulu uns'aa_," he angrily added. Then, taking her arm instead of her chains, he led her further down the aisle, looking for the section where the humanoid slaves were kept.

Kielanai closed the amulet in her fist. It had made his words very clear. _You know how I hate to lose what's important to me._

Rindaalyn reluctantly followed, leading Talvalo by his chains. "Did Jiub say what part of the dungeon Chizrae would be kept in?"

"I don't think he knew," Kielanai quietly answered. "His notes are in my pack, but my pack was put in that chest—along with our Recall spell."

"One of the guards said the most recent prisoners were brought back here with the household slaves," Daerazal informed them. "We'll go back for your things once we've located Chizrae. Rindaalyn, you and Talvalo search the aisles over there. We'll take this side."

The cages lining the walls now held humans, elves, and other similar races. Most of the slaves watched their movements with lack-luster interest because, for all they knew, it was just two more dark elves bringing two more light elves in as new slaves. A few of the fresher slaves looked to the new slaves with hope, but they were too afraid to speak because of Daerazal's presence.

Kielanai searched the gaunt, dirty faces for a female Drow, but she still couldn't block the image of the elf on that altar from her mind. She wondered how many of these would suffer the same fate. "They people look tortured," she whispered.

"They _are_ tortured," Daerazal confirmed in hushed tones.

"We should try to free them."

"There's nowhere for them to go … trapped in a Llothian fortress in the dark, miles upon miles underneath their own civilizations."

"They can go with us when we cast the Recall spell."

"Too many. Surane sounded doubtful it would even teleport us."

"We can't just leave them here knowing horrible things are going to happen to them," she hissed.

"The priestesses will put most of them out of their misery soon enough. Blood sacrament is the only way they have of gaining forgiveness or blessings. Lloth's worshipers are in bondage to her the same way these slaves are chained to their cages."

"These slaves were not brought here by their own _choice_."

"True, but Lloth lures worshipers into her web with promised blessings, when all she's really doing is using their worship to boost her ego and create chaos in their lives. She uses hope and fear to control their dependency on her. They become enslaved, believing in fickle promises and obligating themselves to do her fickle bidding ... too afraid of the consequences if they reject her."

"Are you defending them?"

"No."

"_You _were able to reject her."

"Rejecting her did not make me free," he whispered, reminding her of their earlier conversations about the challenges for ex-Llothians. "I'm outside of the cage now, but she still holds the chains. The only way to truly make her disappear is to prevent her from being worshiped. But since her worshipers fear her wrath and want to appease her desires, they actually _give_ her power over them. That's the ultimate problem. And as long as she holds the chains to enslave mortals, she has the power to manipulate even those of us who reject her."

Daerazal started to say more, but caught sight of a Drow guard standing in front of a larger, more fortified door at the wall behind the last row of cells. So instead, he grabbed her rather suddenly by the collar, gave her a shake, and flashed Spider Bite in front of her face once more. "Shut up and do as I say!" he ordered in his native tongue. Then, he dragged her forward toward the well-fortified door.

Kielanai was started by the sudden change in his persona again, but this time she was more worried about staying clear of the blade. Even in pretense threat, that sword could be deadly.

The rogue warrior came to a stop in front of the guard. "Who's in there?"

"Exiled priestess and a few wizards. You'll have to put that one somewhere else."

Daerazal released Kielanai's collar and lowered his sword, but grasped her chains. "I was _told_ to put her in _that_ cell."

The guard became annoyed. "Well, it's full, and the rule is one body per cell. They get diseased when they're clustered together. Take her to the other side."

Daerazal drew closer to the guard and leaned on his shoulder. "Okay. How about I _not_ put her in there, and we say that I did," he suggested in a sly tone. "She's a bard. Great dancer—look at those legs. And you know what she really likes? Hot baths and little towels. Mention that, and she's there."

Kielanai gasped and then growled at him for his sales pitch. It was curious how much better his negotiation skills were around his own obnoxious kin compared to the people he met in Cyrodiil.

The guard grinned with a sordid chuckle. "In that case, I _think_ I remember you bringing her here, but she escaped to the _barracks_."

Daerazal's lips curled into a wicked smile. "Barracks are crowded. I _think_ you'd prefer to pick her up in_ my private quarters_." He held out his hand, ignoring Kielanai's glare.

"You read my mind." The guard reached into his pocket to hand Daerazal a keystone so he could use the outdoor exit, rather than taking the supposedly delivered slave back past the other guards.

Daerazal nodded his gratitude, but then abruptly pushed Kielanai behind him and thrust, and then twist, Spider Bite into the guard's gut. "Guess reading minds isn't one of _your_ talents, though." Rolling the dead guard over, he grabbed his keys. Pushing the body aside, Daerazal unlocked Kielanai's cuffs and collar, but left them on her. "Don't take them off just yet," he whispered directly to her ear.

The house slaves that had witnessed his killing of the guard rose in their cages with new interest. A few of them even attempted to quietly draw his attention, but he ignored them and unlocked the fortified cell to pull open the heavy door.

))((

The chamber where the magic users were held had dispel glyphs emblazoned on the walls, floor, and ceiling. "Chizrae?" Daerazal called as he walked down the row of cages.

Kielanai followed behind him, checking each cage they passed. "Chizrae? Lord Vivec?"

He heard movement from one of the cages to his right and changed direction to jog toward that end instead. "Chizrae, are you in here? It's me—Daerazal."

Chains began to rattle fiercely from the opposite end.

The Drow ran toward the response, but stopped short when he came to the barred window in the door.

On the floor in the middle of a filthy cell, a naked Drowess had been gagged to prevent her from casting magic. Unable to reach the door because of her chains, she was astonished to see him. But as she rose on eight spindly legs beneath a bulbous arachnoid body, the drider started to cry.

"What the hell have they done to you?" Daerazal unlocked and threw open the cage door.

Kielanai rushed in behind him, but then stood stunned and speechless in the doorway.

Daerazal removed Chizrae's gag before working on the manacles that had scraped her wrists raw.

Rare tears fell down the former Llothian priestess's cheeks. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't have come. They gave me to a handmaiden, and the handmaiden gave me to Lloth. Lloth punished me for betraying her in Menzoberranzan and Guallidurth._ Leave_, or they'll punish _you, too_."

"Shit!" Daerazal jerked his hand away as the glowing glyph on cuff sprang a jolt of lightning magic into him.

"Let me try." Kielanai moved in next to him and placed a hand over the glyph to cast a Dispel spell. When the magic faded, she took Chizrae's other wrist and did the same. Daerazal was able to open the locks with the key after that.

Freed from her chains, Chizrae wrapped her arms around her brother and buried her face into his shoulder.

"I left the bugbear guards at the dungeon door alive, so it wouldn't look so obvious that we came down here, but it's only a matter of time before House Nardool realizes this is where we are. We need to get out of here. Where's Vivec?" he asked.

"I don't know. We got separated once we were ambushed on the ship at Solstheim. I think he escaped ... unless it was _his_ idea to lead me into this trap," Chizrae bitterly added, as she dried her eyes. "He's already killed Nerevar Indoril once under Red Mountain, why _wouldn't_ he plot to do it again."

The bard opened Daerazal's pack and offered one of his shirts to his sister. "My name is Kielanai. I'm a friend of Talvalo's. We're here to take you home."

"Talvalo is _here_?" Chizrae accepted the shirt, but she was mortified rather than happy. "They'll kill him! How could you bring him with you?" she fussed at her brother, but then drew back with fear. "I can't let him see me like this." Her eight legs carried her back against the wall. "I'm an abomination."

Daerazal turned to Kielanai. "Go find Talvalo and Rindaalyn. Have them help you create a distraction, so you can get your stuff, then meet us back here." He passed her the _piwafwi_ that he stole, then gave her the ring of keys and the keystone. "I'm sure you'll think of a good use for this."

She threw her arms around him to hug him tight. "Thank you."

"Kielanai? Collars and chains are not for hugging," he spoke, muffled by her shoulder, as the iron devices hit and pressed uncomfortably into his cheek and ear. "We're in a hurry and losing time."

The bard drew back with a grin. "I'll be right back," she whispered with glee and ran to the other side of the chamber to find the other elves.

Daerazal closed his pack and lifted it to his shoulder once more, then turned to face his sister.

"I was horrible to you," Chizrae admitted in a raspy voice. "_Why_ would you risk yourself to save me after everything that happened between us?"

"Well … you always did tell me I was stubborn. And if it wasn't for you, I never would have seen the world beyond our Llothian hell." Pulling the shirt from her too-thin hands, he slipped it over her head and helped her finish dressing with consideration to the Drow-half of her cursed arachnid form. "I'm not letting her have you. Not like this." Angry at her transformation, and saddened by her broken spirit, Daerazal drew his tortured sister into his arms to give her tears of pride a chance to come to terms with her rescue. Because she was stubborn like that, too.


	29. Chapter 29: Lloth's Curse

Chapter 29: Lloth's Curse

"We found Chizrae!" Kielanai announced in hushed excitement after running into Talvalo and Rindaalyn in another part of the dungeon under House Nardool.

Talvalo didn't wait to hear anything more. He started to run past her, but was nearly clothes-lined by his collar and chains. The Altmer battlemage scowled at the Dunmer scout for keeping a hold on him, even if it was accidental.

"Wait, wait!" Kielanai pulled Talvalo back by his chains and unlocked them.

"Is she okay?" he anxiously asked.

Kielanai didn't know how to answer. "She's … waiting for us with Daerazal, but we need to get our stuff back first."

"I need to see her—"

"We can't get her out of here without the Recall spell," Kielanai urgently reminded him.

"There were only two guards at the chest," Rindaalyn remembered. "Two guards should be easy after everything else we've had to face."

"And it will be even easier with this." Kielanai showed them the keys, keystone, and piwafwi Daerazal had given her.

"Sssh!" Rindaalyn silenced her. Urgent, angry voices were being exchanged on the other side of the dungeon near the entrance.

Kielanai's expression fell. Her borrowed amulet understood it all. "The guards are telling a search party we came this way!" Quickly, she passed Talvalo the piwafwi. "Since you know a spell to unlock things, you have to get our things back. Rin and I will create a distraction."

Talvalo dropped his chains to the floor, then pulled the magical cloak on and vanished. "I know pirates are thieves, but sneaking behind people _really _isn't how pirates do this sort of thing," he grumbled before jogging back toward the chamber entrance.

Kielanai ran back to where the house slaves were and scanned their faces for someone who looked strong enough to help fight. The slaves immediately picked up on her intentions and rushed to doors of their cages, calling and reaching out to her. She finally settled on a large human male that reminded her of a burly Nord. Unlocking his cage, she slipped the keystone into his hand. "Find the exit and take out any guards. Hurry!"

"Take this." Rindaalyn passed the marilith's scimitar into the man's hands.

"Thank you!" the human nodded, overwhelmed with their generosity. "Thank you!"

As he ran to do just that, the bard turned a surprised expression on the scout.

"He needs it more than I do now," Rindaalyn explained. "That blade will slice through anything in one swipe, so they can hurry."

Kielanai smiled at his reasoning, then used the ring of keys to open every occupied cell. "Get out of here! Run! Follow the guy with the keystone! There's a search party coming so go straight to the exit!" She nodded in return to each touch, nod, or tear of gratitude she received in return. Rindaalyn helped those who were injured or weak, until one of the other house slaves could help them along.

))((

As the Drow search party spread out in the antechamber of the dungeon, they ran right past the battlemage under the _piwafwi_. Talvalo held his breath and continued toward the holding chest, thankful that no one seemed interested in it right now. Setting his hand on the latch, he cast a spell to open it. Then, grabbing their items from within, he armed himself, proud that he had been a good thief, after all.

"_Gaer! Foluss olplyniren doeb d'lil kostith mamulen!_"

Talvalo halted and looked up to see the two Drow guards drawing their weapons. "So much for being a good thief." The battlemage cloaked himself properly again and ran.

))((

When the last cage was empty in the household servants section of the dungeon, Kielanai and Rindaalyn ran to the section holding monsters. While she was debating what to do next, the Ashlander took the keys and went down the rows choosing beasts that looked like they had some measure of intelligence toward revenge and gratitude.

Pulling the bard behind the door with himself each time, just in case gratitude wasn't on the menu, he pointed to the antechamber, rather than the exit. The monsters that he released ran, leaped, or lumbered toward the interior of House Nardool ready to rip apart the Drow who captured and tortured them.

"That wasn't very nice," Kielanai whispered.

"No, but it should really piss them off." Rindaalyn grinned and spun the key ring around his finger. Seconds later, they could hear the clash between the Drow and their enslaved beasts. A few seconds later, a frantic-looking Talvalo sprang at them from thin air.

"What in Oblivion was that? You couldn't wait for me to come back? Were you trying to kill me, too?" he gasped as he tried to catch his breath and handed Kielanai her pack and katana.

"Let's get out of here while we can." She ran back to the cell where they had found the Drowess and continued releasing any remaining humanoid slaves. Rindaalyn drew his katana to stand watch at the door, while Talvalo ran to the Drow siblings in Chizrae's cage.

"Chizrae!" He knocked Daerazal aside to wrap his arms around his lost wife. "Ah!" he caught his breath in excitement. "Ah, thank the gods you're alright." For a moment, he was just overjoyed to see her. But when he couldn't help but notice what had happened to her, his expression melted from joy to dismay. Chizrae clutched at his robes and buried her face in them in shame. Not knowing how in the world to comfort her over something like that, the astonished battlemage folded her into his arms and gave her a kiss. "We'll find a way to undo it. You'll be alright once we get out of here."

"Where's Lord Vivec?" Rindaalyn called from the outer chamber door that he guarded.

Kielanai set her bag on the floor and began digging through it for the Recall spell.

"Gone," Daerazal answered with a grim tone. "He disappeared during the fight in Solstheim."

The Drow search party spilled into the main chamber of the dungeon and split up to filter methodically through each aisle of cages looking for the intruders. Five Drow in the lead were the first to spot Rindaalyn at the anti-magic holding cell and shout back to the rest of the search party.

"They've spotted us!" Rindaalyn called in warning, but sheathed his katana. Slamming the door shut, he used the keys to lock the door. Then, he ran back to Chizrae's cage where everyone else was waiting for the bard to find the Recall spell.

Kielanai was frustrated. "Stall them!"

"Stall them? There's an entire army of Drow out there sweeping down on us. We're trapped in a little corner cage. And you want me to _stall_ them?" Rindaalyn closed the cage door and locked it like the chamber door. "That's about as good as I can do."

"Alright! I'm looking as fast as I can!" she snapped and continued digging through all her stuff. "Oh, I hope they didn't take it!"

Chizrae's face pinched in pent-up fury. "I'll do more than stall them. I'll give them a kiss from Mother." The Drowess snatched the keys from Rindaalyn, opened the cage, and went to the locked, heavy door of the chamber. Her spidery legs carried her up the wall along the rim of the door, where she used her spinnerets to shoot a sticky stream of webbing between the cracks. When she came back down on the other side, she turned her spinnerets on it one more time and wove a full-sized web over the entire surface over it. Having set that trap, she ran back to her cell, pulled the door shut, and locked it again.

The outer door banged and banged. "Everyone to the center!" she ordered, then began to weave and spin again—this time casting her web over the entire inside of the cage's sides. "Don't touch it," she warned as she grabbed her husband's sword and climbed up the strands to the top. There, the cursed Drowess licked the blade to coat it with venom from her fangs and hung upside down ... waiting.

A blast of fire blew the door off the hinges. About ten Drow from the search party attempted to rush Chizrae's cage, only to find it covered in thick, white, sticky drider webbing. One of them gave a counter command to burn the woven trap, but as the Drow wizard prepared to cast his destructive spell, the drider dropped from the top of the cage to shoot another single strand of webbing. The shot hit, filled, and clogged the wizard's mouth. Not only was he silenced, he was suffocated. The drider swung away from the door just in time for a half-dozen blades to pierce through the webbing, but once _their_ blades touched the webbing, they stuck fast.

"I got it!" Kielanai shouted amid the Nardool Drow curses. Everyone, including Chizrae, pressed together in a tight formation, and the bard broke open the seal on the scroll. In a flash of brilliant light, the five elves found themselves standing on the dock in front of the _Crystal Maiden_ on Akaviri Kojima.

Blinded by the magic and the suddenness of the sunlight, the Drow siblings shrank back with curses of pain. But then Chizrae dropped the longsword to hug her husband's neck and gave in to overwhelming sobs. Her ordeal in Guallidurth was finally over.

Exhausted and relieved, Daerazal sat down on the end of the dock where it touched the ground, disappointed that their success was not without huge failure. It they had only arrived sooner …

Rindaalyn leaned forward, hands on knees, to exhale in relief and then lifted his chin to the bard.

Kielanai stepped away from the dock and dropped to her knees to grab fistfuls of sand—a _her_ sand from _her_ own land. "_Tadaiima ..._" she whispered, overwhelmed with was finally home.

))((

Autumn colors now kissed the maple and ginko trees, giving crisp red and gold beauty between the scattered Gold Coast evergreens. The vegetable and herb gardens were dying off with only a few items left for harvesting. The _Crystal Maiden_ floated silently behind the arched bridge at the back of the _minka_, instead of being docked at the front. Other than that, Kojima had not changed. It was still a place of refuge.

With a houseful of people who needed rest, the first thing Kielanai did after arrival was grab an armful of kimono and hakama from her bedroom drawers. She showed everyone where the bath house was behind the _minka_ and passed around the clean, loose clothing.

Then, still wearing her unlocked slave chains and battered armor, she went up the hill to her grandfather's estate and straight to the interior shrine. Before Gwenyth's urn, she knelt on a _zabuton_ and lit a stick of incense to thank the spirits of her family for their protection during the long, hard journey. After setting _Itai Kokoro_ on the tatami at the foot of the shrine, she gave it a low, respectful bow. Leaving the battered katana in the shrine to be cleaned later, she returned to her guests and led them to the west wing of the estate, where there were enough spare futon for everyone.

Only Chizrae was unable to accept the offerings of hospitality, but the drider stayed at her husband's side throughout, silently watching over him.

It was after dark when Kielanai woke and went in search of food for everyone. Rindaalyn offered to help.

When Talvalo woke, he was worried to find Chizrae had left his side. Kielanai assured him the drider was in no danger on the small island, but he and Daerazal went looking for her anyway.

Considering how much his sister loved her moon garden, the Drow had an idea where she might be. Heading through a back door of the west wing, and down some long, stone steps to the water garden, his infravision easily spotted the warm shades of a drider sitting alone on the beach.

))((

Chizrae stared out at the sparkling sea under the starry sky, but she was painfully aware of how much things had changed for her since she last looked upon Tamriel's twin moons. She could no longer roam the world as she wished because people would stare. She knew they would mistake her for a daedric spider and possibly try to kill her. When her husband and brother looked at her now, she could tell they pitied her. And she hated that most of all. But she was also afraid. Driders were cursed with more than physical transformation. Lloth's curse upon heretics also eventually transformed the mind.

That was why she left to have a few minutes alone—to think. She had been staring at the stars for a long time when she heard the soft shuffling of sand behind her.

"I thought you might be chilly." Talvalo draped an embroidered silk shawl around her shoulders. "Kielanai found this among her grandmother's things right before she and Rin went looking for food at the farm house. She said you were welcome to browse her wardrobe for anything that might fit."

The Drowess reluctantly drew the wrap across herself as her husband and brother sat down to either side of her curled and tucked spider legs.

Talvalo tried to smile in spite of her obvious sadness and reached a hand to stroke her cheek. "Ilansa's been keeping Ku'ne with her in Imperial City. We can pick him up tomorrow if you like. The sooner we get home, the better we'll all feel."

"I can't go anywhere ... not like this." She had been for a swim and her damp, white hair clung to her face and neck.

"Chiz ..." Talvalo touched her chin to coax her to look at him. "You're as beautiful as the first time I saw you."

Her eyes narrowed with cynicism. "I'm a monster."

He sighed. To say anything to the contrary would be thin, false, and somehow belittle what she had been through. They all knew it.

"You could wait outside the city limits if you don't want to be seen," Daerazal suggested, folding his arms over his knees. "Or, you could ask Kielanai to borrow her ship. On the water, you could stop just outside of Imperial City in Lake Rumare and then head straight home to Seyda Neen."

The Drowess shook her head, rejecting his suggestions. "If I return to Morrowind, the Empire will watch me more closely now than ever. The fact that I was in Akavir marks me as a possible traitor to the Empire, and the fact that I've been cursed with demon blood makes me a possible traitor to civilization in general. The Tribunal will question what happened to Vivec. And the Dunmer will never accept that their Nerevarine has been turned into an abomination."

"Are you kidding? They worship daedra and now you look just like one," Daerazal lightly commented.

The Drowess glared at her brother for his joke. "You'll see how funny that is when I wrap you in silk and hang you from the trees."

"Okay, okay. Not funny," he apologized. "But, there _were _daedric spiders running all over the place not too long ago. A cult of Mehrunes Dagon assassinated the Emperor and attempted to invade Cyrodiil. And then a priestess from House Nardool impersonated the Nerevarine to start a war. That's when we found out what was happening in Akavir. Believe it or not, Jiub told us where to find you."

"Jiub ..." Chizrae snorted at the unexpected news. "These events will only add to my difficulties in Morrowind."

"Then let's not worry about Morrowind yet," Talvalo gently suggested. "Let's just take care of you. Maybe we can ask Azura to remove the curse and—"

"Azura cannot undo what Lloth has done. Not even Azura will stand by me now."

He took her hand in his. "I'll stand by you."

"To what end? You would hide in a cave with me the rest of our days and watch our son grow up to fear and despise me?" The proud Drowess shook her head. "I won't allow it."

"Oh, please. Have you forgotten who you're talking to? I have to spend a week out of every month for the rest of my life being mutated under the curse of a wolf."

"But you have the time between to live normally as an elf! No one would know about your curse unless they happen to witness your moon rendering. Being a full-time drider is impossible to hide. Look at me!" She rose on all eight legs to stand before the Altmer and force him to see her for what she really was now—to force him to accept it. "You must take little Nerevar and live elsewhere if he is to have any kind of normal life. He must never know me like this, Talvalo. Promise me."

The battlemage stood and grabbed her arms. "You can't just disappear like that! You're his mother!"

Chizrae gave a bitter laugh. "_Mother _… At least I am not like my mother. She rid herself of us the day we were born and had nothing to do with us, until we became cunning enough to improve _her_ worthiness in the eyes of Lloth. And then she tried to murder me. At least I am voluntarily leaving before I become a danger to my son." Her bitter cynicism softened into bitter sadness. "I won't even be able to kiss him without fear of poisoning him. And the longer I remain in this half-beast form, the stronger a thirst for a fresh kill will grow."

The battlemage lifted the calming amulet from his neck. "You can use this. It'll work on anyone—even Daerazal," he added with a light smile.

The Drow warrior looked up with an insulted frown.

"Talvalo, you don't understand what a drider is!" Her tone softened as her anger once more returned to sadness. "I will lose my memories … and then I will lose my mind. I won't even know you."

Talvalo shook his head in denial.

"It's true," Daerazal quietly confirmed. "Part of the drider curse is that they go mad as they become feral. They end up forgetting they were elves before they become … demon spawn."

Chizrae touched her raven-black hand to her husband's golden cheek. "I am truly grateful to you for freeing me … and for all the good memories you've given me. But I can't stay with you, Talvalo. I'm so sorry."

"Would you be willing to go back to Menzoberranzan to look for a cure?" Daerazal suggested.

Chizrae turned away from Talvalo to face her brother. "You know there is no cure."

"I know." The Drow lifted his chin to meet his sister's gaze. "But while I was hunting you down for Matron Sevlessa, my caravan learned about a ring that could force a god to do the bidding of a mortal—one wish only."

Chizrae's spidery legs moved before him and bent so she could crouch closer. "A ring that binds a god like a djinn?"

"A human named Heidric Yumas was the last person I know of to hold it. His wife was a priestess of House Ryd'Alsdan, but she was turned into a drider during a raid on the village of Secomber. I don't know if the ring actually worked to reverse her curse. And I don't know where it could have traveled by now, or even if it still exists. But that ring was crafted and found in the Underdark. I'm willing to go with you—or for you—to look for it. We can use my ring to teleport to the cavern in Suran where the Menzoberranzan _Realmsfade _book is kept, and then look for leads about it from there. That's the book that Jiub and whats-her-face used to find me to—"

"I remember it." Chizrae straightened and paced in the sand as she considered this plan. The Drowess hated the idea of going back into the Underdark, but it truly was the only place she could move freely in this form. "I'll want to see my son first," she stated, knowing that it might be her last opportunity.

"Of course." Daerazal looked to Tavalo for his support.

"No! I just got her back!"

"Time is running out for her! She's already been in captivity like this for how long?"

The battlemage turned to his wife and begged her to be reasonable. "I can't lose you again."

"If we don't do this, you will lose me forever," Chizrae had to agree with her brother. "We have nothing to lose by trying, but everything will be lost if we do nothing."

"If there's a chance it could work, we have to try," Daerazal insisted.

"But little Nerevar needs one of us to stay with him." Near tears again, Chizrae touched a hand to her husband's shoulder. "Talvalo, please stay. He will need his father, even if his mother never returns. And I can't bear for anyone to see me continue down this path if we can't change it."

Talvalo wrestled with the agonizing decision, but then stood beside his wife's arachnid body and wrapped his arms around her elven shoulders, resting his chin on top her head. "Our son will grow up with war, if the Nerevarine does not return. War between the great houses, war with the Empire … possibly even another war with Akavir, since that is where rumors last placed you."

"A war he might survive. A drider mother, he will not." Chizrae turned to face him. "As far as everyone else is concerned, the Nerevarine has disappeared in Akavir. In time, people who thought they knew her will forget. A new Nerevarine can come along, and Azura can use him to finish the prophecy if she truly desires it." The Drowess was quiet for a moment. "Where is the Dunmer that helped free me?"

"Rindaalyn?"

"Tell me about him."

))((

Having adjusted to traveling cross-country in Akavir through the night, and being half-starved from not eating since before arriving in Sassubaa, Kielanai had no hesitation about harvesting ingredients from her garden at midnight. Rindaalyn helped her carry them and a few items from her _minka_, to the kitchen of her grandfather's estate to prepare a large meal.

The problems came in trying to keep the scout's fingers out of the dishes before they were done. Bowls of steamed rice, crab meat, batter-fried carrots, and fruits were set on one of the long, low dining tables in the formal dining hall. It was the first time she had eaten in there since she was a child.

Rindaalyn looked for the rest of their party and called them inside. Everyone ate until their stomachs couldn't hold any more.

Chizrae couldn't sit on the floor cushions with the chair-like backs, so Kielanai went through the rest of the house, gathering more _zabuton_ from other rooms to pile together for her comfort. After that, the thin, starved Drowess hungrily devoured the food with as much gusto as anyone else.

Kielanai had yet to speak properly with the former Llothian priestess, but now that she fully understood what Llothians were like, she was even more impressed that the Drowess had the courage to turn her back on the cult and escape. "Chizrae?" she hesitantly spoke. "Daerazal told me some time ago that you used a sigil stone to come through Oblivion to Tamriel. During the Oblivion Crisis, Daerazal and I had to go through it to close Mehrune Dagon's gates. But when we went to Guallidurth, we ended up going through the Demonweb. Which plane did you go through when you first came here?"

"Both," the Drowess answered. "But I passed through the Demonweb into Azura's realm of Moonshadow. I don't remember much because my injuries were so traumatic. Azura carried me through to Imperial City and told me she was watching over me. At the time, I was grateful to have the help, but of course, I had no idea what she had in store for me. I was jailed over an incident involving a thief that stole my last coin, and then they shipped me off to Morrowind. That's when I went from being the disobedient Sixth Daughter of House Velve'Xukuth to fighting the Sixth House of Dagoth Ur." Chizrae gave a cynical smile at the irony. "I guess the multiverse is full of dark elf house wars."

"Things changed for me when I went through Oblivion, too," Kielanai thoughtfully added. "I used to be scared to death of those gates, but … Daerazal just ran head-first right into them."

Chizrae sighed in flat agreement. "Yes, he's very simplistic like that, isn't he. Just point him to a target and let him play with his sword. To his credit, though, he does give it some thought afterwards." She smirked tauntingly at her brother, who sat cross-legged at the end of the table. "Once when we were children, we got into an argument and without a second thought to his consequences, he threw a rock at me. Hit me right here." She touched a silver scar above her white brow so everyone could see.

"Be sure you tell them _why_ I threw a rock at you," he inserted with a frown.

"He wanted to sit where I was sitting on top of a rock formation," she explained to pacify him.

Kielanai chuckled and swatted his knee. "Bad you."

"_Not _bad me; bad _her_. I was up there looking for my pet lizard, and she pushed me off so that she could catch it and claim it for her own."

Chizrae laughed lightly at the memory. "It was a pretty little lizard with colorful stripes on its back, so of course I wanted it. And since you enjoyed having it, that made it more fun to take."

He rolled his eyes and dropped his head into his hand.

"Anyway," she continued to Kielanai. "Daerazal knew he would get beat if I tattled, so I fully expected him to threaten or bribe me. But I never expected the look on his face when he realized he could have blinded me. He pulled me aside where no one would see, and he _apologized_. You have to understand, apologies _never_ happen in Menzoberranzan unless done under duress.

"When I went home, no one said anything about my cut. But because he tried to stop the bleeding by using his shirt, he was punished anyway for ruining his clothes." She was humored at his bad luck, but then saddened slightly. "Growing up in Menzoberranzan … somehow there were always too many rocks to throw and not enough hiding places to apologize." The Drowess looked down at her empty bowl. "I don't want my son to grow up the way we did. Talvalo will do a better job raising him than I ever could. I don't know the first thing about raising children."

"Most first-time parents don't. But you've already given him a better chance than either of you had," Kielanai quietly encouraged.

The Drowess had to restrain her emotion for a moment. "You don't understand. A drider is a monster cursed to eat itself before it begins to eat others. As the spider half of me consumes the elven half, I will no longer know who or what I am. My mind and body will be in chaos like the goddess who cursed me. There will be no peace for me, or anyone who tries to care for me. And I will not be able to care for my son.

"Daerazal believes there is magic in the Underdark that can force Lloth to undo this curse. If I wish to be with my husband and son in the future, I must look for this magic as soon as possible … before the spider half wins. But Talvalo must keep our son here in Tamriel."

Kielanai sat perfectly still … stunned. "You're leaving your family? Chizrae, your son needs you. Talvalo needs you. You should have seen how pitiful he was without you. Send someone else to hunt this magic for you."

"I'll be helping," Daerazal explained. "Or, at least I'll be able to keep looking if she no longer can. But Chiz understands that the caverns of the Underdark are the best place for her if she goes feral. They're also our best hope at finding magic that might force Lloth to undo this."

His announcement stunned her even more than Chizrae's. "You're leaving, too?"

"Tomorrow."

Kielanai felt a pit form in her stomach.

The Drowess had to collect herself before continuing. "Kielanai, if I don't come back … will you help Talvalo take care of our son?"

The bard reluctantly nodded, even though she didn't want to accept. There had to be another way.

Reassured about her child's safety, Chizrae looked to Rindaalyn next. "Then I have something for you. Something they could not take from me in the dungeon." She took Rindaalyn's hand and placed a small item in his palm—a ring. "Do you know what that is?"

The Ashlander youth stared with awe at the precious item. "Nerevar's Moon and Star."


	30. Chapter 30: The Goddesses' Blessings

Chapter 30: Azura's and Elistraee's Blessings

Chizrae smiled at Rindaalyn's correct identification of Nerevar's Moon-and-Star ring that she placed in his hand. "Forged by the Dwemer sorcerer-priest Kagrenac, blessed by Azura herself, and given to General Nerevar Indoril for uniting the warring clans of the Chimer … there is only one Moon-and-Star artifact. And every Ashlander knows about it, correct?"

"Yes," he agreed, awed by the fact that he was now holding the one-and-only sacred relic.

"Do you mind if I ask where you come from?"

Rindaalyn wasn't sure why the Drowess would be interested in his origins, and he wasn't sure he wanted to explain. "I was born in the Grazelands outside of the Ahemmusa Camp between Vos, Tel Vos, and Tel Mora, but I often hunt in the Ashlands and West Gash between the Urshilaku Camp, Maar Gan, and Khuul. I know the northern coast of Vvardenfell very well."

"Then you probably understand the hearts of the native Dunmer quite well—both the Great Houses and the Ashlander tribes."

"I'm too much of an Ashlander for the Great Houses, and too much of an Outcast for the Great Tribes. They treat me like an Outlander because of my Tsaesci blood, even though I am native Dunmer."

"Tsaesci blood _is _Outlander blood," Talvalo pointed out the obvious as he slouched in his seat.

Kielanai frowned at the somewhat flat tone the battlemage used with the youth. "Rindaalyn is a good balance. He understands how deeply the native Dunmer are connected to their land how that land is connected to their spiritual and cultural traditions. But he is pragmatic enough to also understand the benefits of having towns and villages that welcome Outlanders."

She looked to the scout. "Rin, you have to stop thinking of yourself as having to be one or the other. Your ancestors span two continents—Akavir and Tamriel. You get the benefits of coming from two worlds, instead of being limited to only one. Anyone who can't appreciate how amazing that is … well, it's their problem, not yours," the Akaviri-Altmer added with a wink.

Rindaalyn smiled sheepishly in return. He hadn't thought of it like that before.

"I was told you are an orphan. Correct?" Chizrae directly asked.

"My mother died of the disease from the mountain. I don't know who my father or grandparents were, and I have no siblings. But I do okay for myself," he lightly boasted.

Chizrae set her elbow on the table, chin in hand, and stared at him with a pensive frown. "'_Dragon-born and far-star marked,_ '" she muttered to herself. "Akavir is the land of the dragons—east toward the sun, which is a star. Your blood-line can be traced to there."

Kielanai was surprised to hear of the analogy for someone from Akavir. "I thought the Dragon-born was a Nord legend from Skyrim."

Chizrae lifted her gaze. "What I just recited is from a document called the _Lost Prophecy_. It's _the_ ancient document containing the original details of the Nerevarine Prophecy."

"_Aa, sou_." The bard's eyes widened in wonder. "In other words, the Nerevarine is dragon-born in the sense that, like the Blades, they came from a land of dragons. It doesn't necessarily mean he was born with a dragon's spirit, like the Skyrim legend. The Septim line is also said to be dragon-born because of the pact made with Akatosh."

"Yes, it could also be a reference to the fact that the Empire employed me to their cause."

"All these references to dragons when they no longer even exist … so confusing. What else does this _Lost Prophecy_ say? Do you still have the document?"

"It's in safe storage in my home, but I know it by heart, as well. '_Outlander Incarnate beneath Red Mountain,'_" Chiz recited the next part, then looked to Rindaalyn once more. "Have you ever been to Red Mountain?"

He nodded. "My mother was abducted to a Sixth House cavern by Dreamers. That's where she was infected. I had to help her escape before they turned her into one of those ash zombies."

"You were around your mother after she became infected, but you did not get sick?"

Rindaalyn saddened at the memory of his mother's last days as a bloated, bleeding, walking corpse. "I was with her until the men of the city killed her. They feared she would spread the disease."

"Corprus is highly contagious. You must have a natural immunity."

"Maybe his Tsaesci blood repelled it?" Talvalo suggested. "Tsaesci are already infected with a vampiric curse."

"Yet he doesn't have that either." Chizrae continued. "'_Blessed Guest counters seven curses …' _So, there's at least three down, but I'm willing to bet all seven have been met because the Dreamers had already awakened by the time your mother was taken."

"What curses?" Rindaalyn was beginning to get uneasy with these comparisons.

"The seven curses were fire, ash, flesh, ghosts, seed, despair, dreams. '_Star-blessed hand wields thrice-cursed blade to reap the harvest of the unmourned house._'" Chizrae's voice softened. "Reaping a harvest usually means taking up the good from what remains of the rot. I did not reap a harvest from House Dagoth. I reaped the rot."

"What good could possibly be left from House Dagoth?" Rindaalyn asked with disgust.

"A mystery …" Deep in thought, the Drowess stared at her plate.

The scout became anxious, then angry about these riddles. The former Llothian priestess had admitted to being part of an Imperial scam, yet she was reciting Nerevarine litany he'd never heard of before. "Not to be rude, but … if you are _not_ the true Nerevarine, how _did_ you manage to fulfill the sacred prophecy?"

Her fingernails tapped lightly against her raven-skinned cheek. "I met the requirements, and I had Azura's blessing. But … you seem to meet the requirements, too." Her attention went to the ring in his blue-gray hand.

Rindaalyn reflexively closed his fingers over the precious item, as if protecting it from her blasphemy.

"When I found the Cavern of the Incarnate where the Moon-and-Star was hidden, Azura addressed me as Nerevar and Incarnate, but she never addressed me as the Nerevarine. She told me it was the tribes that would name me Nerevarine—as if it didn't matter to her whether I was Nerevar, or not, as long as the tribes believed I was him."

The Ashlander's eyes narrowed, suspecting that she was now trying to deceive him, as well. "Just because you joined the Imperials to trick the leaders of the Great Tribes and Great Houses into thinking you were the Incarnate doesn't mean the prophecy isn't true! Do you mean to say that Azura has tricked all of us? That there is no truth to her promise to save Morrowind?"

"Also in that cavern were the mummified bodies of several False Incarnates. Their ghosts appeared to me to offer me advice and gifts, but they all said their deaths occurred _elsewhere._ I found it odd that none of them died from being entombed there, yet all were present to guard that ring.

"Only one of the False Incarnates, Peakstar, addressed me as Nerevarine. She said the ring itself was proof that I was Nerevar, but then she told me that truth is not clear or simple. She said the visions of Azura were unclear, partly because the future is not yet known, and there are choices to be made. I found it to be a little contradictory to tell me my destiny on one hand, but then tell me I had a choice on the other. I have never been able to accept that I truly am Nerevar. But I _chose_ to become the Nerevarine, after I was _tricked_ into it," she explained with a slightly bitter frown, "because I saw Morrowind's need to believe that he had returned."

He was confused. "I don't understand. You can't just _choose_ to become the chosen one. '_An orphan and outcast, a youth born on a certain day to uncertain parents shall unite all the tribes of Dunmer, drive out the invaders of Morrowind, and shall reestablish the laws and customs of the Dark Elven nations_,'" he recited.

"Yes, that's the message Blades Spymaster Caius Cosades received from the personal secretary of Emperor Uriel Septim," she agreed. "And that is the version of the Prophecy most people are familiar with. I've gone over all the documents a thousand times trying to understand why _I _was chosen. It's very ambiguous, as most prophecies tend to be. But what I've come to realize is that Nerevar's return was never about _me_. It's not even about Nerevar. What happened to him was just the catalyst. The Prophecy is about Azura—her promise … and her curse."

The youth's copper colored brows drew together again. "What do you mean?"

The Drowess leaned her elbows on the table and set her chin on her fists. "First, you must remember that Indoril-Nerevar, or Nerevar Indoril, was a Chimer king, _not_ a Dunmer general. The Tribunal, his queen and generals, were Chimer, too. When the Chimer went to war with the Dwemer over the god's heart found under Red Mountain, Nerevar, his Tribunal, and all Chimer who fought with them made an oath to the Daedric Prince Azura on _that_ ring." She glanced at the Moon-and-Star. "They promised to always honor the old ways and the spirits of the land. But the land of the Chimer was called Resdayn—_not_ Morrowind."

"Resdayn ..." Rindaalyn whispered to himself. He knew this oral history, as well, but it's possible importance was dawning on him for the first time.

Chizrae folded her arms on the table. "When the Tribunal betrayed Nerevar at Red Mountain, they betrayed their oath to Azura, as well. But when they further betrayed their oath to leave the god's heart alone, and used it to set themselves up as immortals, Azura appeared and vowed Nerevar's return to punish them and set the oath right again. She also cursed the rest of the Chimer for worshiping the queen and two generals as false gods. She darkened their skin like ash and reddened their eyes like fire, to remind them of the betrayal at Red Mountain. _Not until then_ did the Dunmer come into existence. _Only later_ when it was taken into the Empire did their land become known as Morrowind.

"Most of the scholars who recorded these events refer to the Dunmer and the Chimer interchangeably. But if the Dunmer represent a cursed condition, how can they be the same people? Perhaps an even more worthy question would be to ask why Azura cursed _all_ Chimer, rather than only those who were guilty of worshiping the Tribunal."

The Drowess reached toward Rindaalyn and ran a fingertip down his forearm as she lowered her voice to an almost sinister whisper. "Why did the faithful Chimer suffer the same burnt-ash skin and eyes as the traitorous Dunmer? Why would innocent future generations be cursed for a crime they did not commit? If she truly wanted to _solve _the problem, Azura could have had her followers strike the traitors dead. Why waste all this time collecting False Incarnates and waiting for Nerevar?"

Chizrae smiled and sighed as if she had bitten into something delicious. "Ah, Azura, your fickle nature is too familiar to me. Your dual aspects are without dispute in name, form, and deed. You are supposed to be the 'good' Daedric Lord, and yet you are just as badly tempered as your counterparts. You would rather be worshiped for your power than use your power to be fair and just."

Rindaalyn frowned at her twisting of everything he ever knew about the prophecy he grew up with.

The Drowess rose from her pile of cushions on the floor of the dining hall, and her eight legs carried her around the table behind the Tsaesci-Ashlander where she crouched to set her hands on his shoulders. "As an ex-priestess of Lloth, I am very familiar with the nature of gods and demons. Azura delivered a blanketed curse because of a promise broken by a few. Then she promised a savior to restore order as long as her conditions are met. What kind of restoration could she mean? She couldn't want to restore the Dunmer of Morrowind. Neither existed before the curse—they _are _the curse." She lowered her voice as she spoke next to his ear. "I believe what Azura truly wants is _to restore the Chimer of Resdayn_."

The Ashlander twisted in his seat to face her. "That's impossible! The Chimer are extinct—by _her_ doing, not ours! She's the only one that could undo something like that."

"Careful," Talvalo interrupted, holding up a finger. "We assumed humans were extinct in Akavir, too. And no one bothered to mention non-vampiric Tsaesci until Kielanai brought it up. Now we have new possibilities to explore to see_ which _so-called-truth is true."

"Azura's curse is obviously a punishment meant to show her power more than strike down the guilty who offended her," Chizrae emphatically repeated. "Therefore, it's possible that she would remove the curse if enough Dunmer converted back to the original oath. That would explain why she feels it's important to have the _people_ determine who the Nerevarine is, instead of her. And if that's the case, it's possible the Nerevarine is not the _actual, reincarnated soul_ of the Chimer king, but any person that meets her requirements for a savior that embodies the spirit of his oath. _That_ is the spirit that the ring and the ghosts of the past recognize as 'Nerevar'.

"The ring guardians present in the Cavern of the Incarnate interpreted their deaths as failure because they were not The One. But obviously they were chosen by Azura to fulfill _some part_ of the Prophecy, because she's the only one who could have sustained them beyond death to come to the cavern and guard the ring so the _next_ Chosen One could find it."

Rindaalyn opened his fist to look again at the ring in his ashen palm.

"By the way …" The Drowess leaned near to his ear again. "That ring should have killed you the instant I dropped it into your hand. Apparently, Azura has deemed you equally worthy to wear it."

The Drowess had gambled with his_ life_? Rindaalyn was briefly furious at her audacity, but then he had already known the ring's danger yet held onto it. The Daedric Prince had two natures, two parts to her symbol, two parts to the prophecy, two lands, two people … Two or more Nerevarines … Was it possible?

"Doubt my interpretation if you wish, but I can assure you this," Chizrae spoke again. "While the Nerevarine Prophecies _do_ have truth hidden within them, they _have_ been perverted with the passage of time, politics, and misunderstandings. The fact that I had to hunt down the real _Lost Prophecy_ over a more widely accepted common version is proof enough of that."

The Ashlander youth swallowed his fear and bravely slipped the sacred relic onto his finger. Nothing dramatic happened. No negative magic poisoned him. But now he could see into the shadowed corners of the room as clearly as if it were daylight, and he felt a growing sense of confidence and hope that he couldn't explain. Perhaps the ring itself embodied the spirit of General Nerevar, channeling it only with individuals worthy of communion. However it worked, it was strangely invigorating.

Chizrae smiled, pleased. "When Azura gave me the ring, she said, 'When you've stood before the False God and freed the heart from its prison, heal my people and restore Morrowind.' Because she helped me through Oblivion, I was in debt to her. So I chose to heal the people by clearing the blight, testing an experimental Corprus cure, and ending Dagoth Ur's invasion of their minds. But because of what Lloth has done to me, I think Azura would prefer a new Nerevarine, and I have no intention of walking all the way back to that cavern to return this after I die," she lightly added.

"I will bring you the thrice-cursed blade from my armory. It's name is Keening, and it was also forged by the maker of the Moon-and-Star, Lord Kagrenac, along with the hammer Sunder and the gauntlet Wraithguard—the tools he forged to harness the power of a god. It is the Nerevarine's job to prevent anyone else from using them ever again, and to use them only when absolutely necessary because the curse is strong enough to kill the Nerevarine, too, if not handled with care."

"But … what else am I supposed to do? I don't know how to go about finishing a prophecy."

"Disappear for a while. Try to find out more about the Chimer. Go back to Akavir and find out about your ancestors there, too. There may be a connection. Consult Azura along the way, and she will guide you. Then use what you've learned to restore Morrowind to its former glory—restore the oath of Resdayn. Perhaps then Azura will lift her curse on your people and your land."

Rindaalyn gazed at the sacred ring on his finger. "Go back to Akavir?"

"I happen to know of one Tsaesci town that could use a good leader," Kielanai inserted. "And if you look hard enough, you might find some human slaves looking for someone to help free them."

This was puzzling coming from her, an Imperial sympathizer. "That means turning my back on Morrowind _and_ the Empire."

"But in the long run, it might be the beginning of peace between Akavir and Tamriel, instead of war."

Rindaalyn was quiet for a thoughtful moment. "Did the Chimer own slaves like the Tsaesci and the Dunmer?"

"I don't know," Chizrae honestly answered. "So much of their history is lost and will be a challenge to uncover. But that's a good place to start asking questions about possible differences between Morrowind and Resdayn."

Kielanai folded her arms and scowled at the Dunmer youth. "Don't you dare restore slavery to Morrowind. The Empire's only recently managed to get the Dunmer Great Houses to ban it."

The scout found her threatening response somewhat amusing, considering the support she had given him just minutes ago. "At least I treated you better as a slave than he did." He pointed to Daerazal.

"That's not even funny," she answered, genuinely insulted.

Rindaalyn nodded in apology. "I didn't realize how bad it could be until …" The scout glanced toward the warrior, then decided not to say anything further. The suffering they'd witnessed among the slaves kept by the Drow was still too fresh in their minds.

Daerazal seemed to understand why the rest of that conversation was left unspoken. "I'm really tired. I think I'm done for the night … General." With a nod to the Dunmer youth, he excused himself from the table. Slipping into some sandals left at the door, he exited the east wing into the starry night.

))((

Kielanai stood and quietly excused herself, as well. Then, hurrying down the steps toward the water garden, she scanned the moonlit landscape for the Drow. The bard couldn't see any sign of him, but she did hear the door of the _onsen_ slide open. "Daerazal?" She ran to intercept him before he could enter.

The Drow paused, holding the door open … waiting to see what she wanted.

"Mind if I join you for a walk?" she blurted, unable to think of anything better to say … for once.

"I wasn't going for a walk. But you can join me in a hot bath if you want," he retorted. "No werewolves this time."

"No, thanks." She was reluctantly humored at his joke, but then realized that might have sounded offensive. "I mean, about the wolf thing. It's not you."

"No, I'm not a wolf."

"Of course not." She gave a mildly embarrassed laugh. "I mean, I wouldn't mind if you were, but I'm glad you're not. Wolf fur in the _onsen_ would be … very bad." She knew she was making no sense.

Daerazal sighed and slid the bamboo door shut. "Okay, what do you want?"

Kielanai interlaced her fingers, but hesitated before speaking again. "We need to talk about what happened in the dungeon."

He seemed upset that she brought it up again, but he didn't seem surprised, either, since Rindaalyn mentioned slavery before he left. "There's nothing more to say—at least, nothing you're going to want to hear. I didn't want you to see or endure any of that, but I warned you to go home while you still had the chance."

"I know. And maybe I should have listened," she agreed. Taking his hand, she coaxed him away from the _onsen_ and led him down the stone path that ran parallel to the water garden. "It was a painful, frightening experience, but in a weird way, I'm glad I went. I'll understand better now when you talk about where you came from."

He snorted and shook his head as he strolled alongside her. "You saw _one_ sacrifice and entered _one_ dungeon that will haunt your memories forever. Now imagine that happening _all_ the time in _every_ house in _many_ cities."

"Well, that's what concerns me. You're going right back into that." She turned up the gently sloping path as it led around the side of the estate under ginko and pine trees looking across the sea toward Valenwood, where she paused to admire the moon's radiance on the undulating tide.

"Are you trying to change my mind about going?"

Kielanai was thoughtful for a moment as she weighed the situation in her mind. "No," she quietly decided. "Your sister needs a dark knight in tarnished armor right now."

He smiled at that analogy. "She needs to be with Talvalo and her son … whatever they decide to name him," he lightly added. "I'm just helping her get there."

"I know." She folded her hands under the sleeves of her kimono because of the chill in the autumn night. "That's why I want to help, too."

He cast her a doubtful side-glance.

"We make a nice team, don't you think? My magic and your swords. My alchemy and your stealth. My creativity; your practicality." She paused with a smirk, since he wasn't saying anything. "My chatty negotiating skills; your moody silence."

The Drow pressed his lips together and nodded, considering her suggestion. Then, drawing a breath, he stretched his arms up and out as if to drape one behind her shoulders, but smacked the back of her head and gave her a scolding frown, instead. "_Baka_."

"_Nandayo? Baka ja nai no,_" she whined in mild protest and rubbed the back of her head.

"_Ba-Ka_," he firmly repeated. "After everything you saw in the Demon Web and the House Nardool, you want to go to Menzoberranzan?"

"_You're _going to Menzoberranzan," she pointed out, as if that was equally as stupid.

"I'm used to it; you're not."

"You'll need a healer."

"You're not a healer; you're a bard."

She drew back, offended. "I can do more restoration spells than you can. We had this discussion back in Akavir, remember? Besides, I'm way better with people than you are. Look at the mess you got into with Awai-Hebi when you tried to pass yourself off as a sorcerer."

He pointed a finger at her. "That was your idea."

"Well, it would have worked if you had been a better actor."

"I'm not an actor. I'm a swordsman."

"Which is _why_ you need someone to negotiate for you."

"If you attempt an honest negotiation with Llothians, without twisting a hidden dagger in their backs, you will be taken for everything you're worth. You have to use deception and manipulation, instead."

"Well, I'm not proud to say it, but I can do that, too, if I have to."

"You still don't get it, do you? It doesn't matter what you're capable of doing. The Underdark isn't _safe _for light elves. It's like taking a rabbit walking into a den of starving wolves."

She plucked a sprig of lavender from a nearby bush, then they turned down the path toward the _minka_ and the stables. Their walk took them off the stone path and down into the tall green and yellow grass that grew near the rice marsh and cattails. There, they were forced to stop because the island came to an end at the mouth of the Strid River. Beyond it, the tall hills and dark forests could barely be distinguished from the indigo sky.

"You can't be _too_ worried about my safety, or you wouldn't have asked me to go to Akavir to speak to a bunch of Tsaesci pirates. Then again, nowhere is truly safe—not even a trip from Anvil to Bruma." She sniffed the fragrance of the small head of purple flowers from the lavender sprig. "I will say one thing for you, though. With your sharp sword and sharper tongue, you keep things interesting. Whether it's Oblivion gates, bad pranks, runaway tanuki, or thousands of spiders, you are definitely an adventure."

She twirled the lavender stem between her fingers. "My stories just wouldn't be the same without your sword tricks and bad acting. No one would insult my patrons or drink my free mead while I sing."

"You won't get free mead in the Underdark. Sing to a crowd of Drow thieves in a tavern, and you might not walk out of there alive."

"You mean because I'm a gold-skinned half-elf? Are you sure it's not because I'm too tall?"

He almost smiled at her attempt to insert humor. "In case you didn't notice, Drow females are usually taller than males. The only reason male warriors outnumber female warriors is because we're more disposable. You think I let my sisters pound the hell out of me for the fun of it?"

"Maybe they picked on you because they thought you were a short brat ... or maybe they just wanted your lizard." Kielanai smirked. "Maybe that's why you don't want me to come along. Do I remind you of your sisters because I tease you about being short?"

He gave an amused snort. "You're kidding, right? Then again, you _did_ nearly punch me in the nose. And you hit me with a shovel ... and punched me in the arm. Throwing a wooden shoe at me and dropping a large wolf on me have to count for some kind of damage."

She almost laughed at how brutal he was making her sound. "Well, it's a perfect disguise then. All I need is a race amulet to look Drow, and I can pretend to be one of your sisters."

Daerazal was highly amused, but shook his head. "Bad idea."

"Why?"

He stared at the gently rippling water where slaughterfish surfaced looking for insects, or something larger, to eat. "For one thing, you'd end up looking more like an Eilistraeen priestess, and in Llothian territory that's just as bad as being a high elf. For another, your personality is _nothing_ like a Drow. You're too nice ... cheerful."

"I could act mean and miserable." Turning away, she continued along the back shore of the island behind the sheep fold and bath house toward the spirit bridge.

"Yeah, but I think they'd catch on after a while if my slave _happened_ to escape every time it's my turn to perform the sacrificial rites."

They pressed past the spirit bridge and up the grassy hill behind the now-empty terraced planting bed. And they kept on walking past the large rocks under the pine and ginko trees.

"But if I didn't look like a half-elf, maybe I wouldn't remind you of Mairiel," she quietly surmised.

The Drow's amusement faded. "You don't remind me of Mairiel."

"I was under the impression you were comparing us all along."

"You're both high maintenance and chatty, but other than that you don't look or act anything like her."

Kielanai halted where the high yellow and green grass of the wooded area ended and the sandy beach began. "Is that why I'm not good enough for you?"

The Drow came to a slow stop a few paces ahead of her, but did not turn back to face her yet. "Kielanai ... if anything you are too good for me."

"Just like you felt Mairiel was too good for you … so you let her go?"

"It has nothing to do with Mairiel." He turned around, but kept his distance. "I dragged you through a dungeon in chains," he reminded her with a somewhat bitter edge to his tone.

"It was a deception to get to Chizrae. You apologized for having to do it, and you did it to save me from something worse. More than that, you gave me the keystone, so I could set the real slaves free. You have no idea how much that meant to me."

"Next time, instead of watching someone hit you, I might be forced to do it myself. I don't want to have to put on that kind of show for them again … and again … and _again_." His expression was grim. "I already told you I don't like losing what's important to me. It's why I wanted to send you home last time. And it's why I don't want you going with me this time. Why can't you just accept that?"

"If you don't want to lose me … does that mean you love me?" The autumn wind was beginning to pick up, but her cold fingers held tight to the lavender sprig as she pulled a stand of hair that blew across her face and smoothed it behind her small, sharp ear.

))((

Love … In retrospect, the Drow supposed that was what he had felt with Mairiel, but it still remained a foreign concept to him. It was easy to criticize the vulnerability between friends and lovers, but difficult to admit he wasn't as immune to it as he once thought he was. "I don't want to lose you because …" It would be easier to answer with a lie. "I love you." There. He said it. "You worked hard to reclaim Kojima. It's your home. I want you to stay here where it's safe."

The bard returned a small smile. "But home is where the heart is, and my heart is with you."

The Drow closed the short distance between them and slipped a hand beneath her long silver hair, letting it sift through his fingers like silk. In the shadows of the night, she really did look like the Dark Maiden, the Lady of the Dance ... Lady Silverhair. Maybe Eilistraee had led him to her for Chizrae's sake. But maybe the goddess had also done it to give him a guiding light in those dark places deep inside himself. Daerazal leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, briefly, as if testing to be sure no divine wrath would be invoked. But when he kissed her again, the bard slipped her arms under his to make sure the second one lingered.


	31. Chapter 31: Under Sun and Sky

Chapter 31: Under Sun and Sky

A week later, the _Crystal Maiden_ set sail for Imperial City, but docked on the shore of Lake Rumare a bit south of Weye. Talvalo reclaimed little Nerevar-Ku'ne from his sister in the Elven Gardens District and brought him back to the ship, so Chizrae could hold her son in her arms once more. The reunion was emotional, and both parents were surprised at how much the baby boy had grown in their absence.

Shortly after that, as everyone gathered in the captain's den, Kielanai gave Rindaalyn all of their documents and notes gathered for their trip to Akavir. "When you get to Morrowind, be sure to see Surane in Caldera and give her this. I'm sure she'd be more than willing to help with translations and another Recall spell in exchange. She's quite the historian. She may even be able to tell you where to dig up information on the Chimer."

Rindaalyn accepted the documents with doubt. "Are you sure about this? The ship … I mean."

"Mh," the bard smiled with confidence. "Kiumiko is at peace now. My friends in Cyrodiil will continue to keep watch over Kojima and my animals until I can return from Menzoberranzan. It's just another extended absence, though hopefully not as long. But there is one other thing you should take with you when you return to Akavir." The bard passed _Itai Kokoro—saya _and all—to him.

Rindaalyn's mouth dropped in astonishment. "I can't take that."

"You gave your own enchanted weapon to the slave in the dungeon. You need this more than I do now," she repeated his sentiments from then now. "My father said that you were not to hesitate to call on him as if he were your own ancestor, and Masahiro obviously agrees. Their knowledge of Akavir could be more valuable to your journey than their knowledge of martial arts. My family will always be part of me, even without being able to summon their spirits. I am happy to share my past, if it can help build your future."

Accepting the bard's katana, the scout slipped it into the belt of his _hakama_.

"You'll need this again." Chizrae shifted the baby in her arms so she could hand Rindaalyn her translation amulet. "Kielanai put it on a new chain and returned it to me. I no longer need it to communicate in Cyrodiil, but I was told you are not fluent in Akaviri languages yet."

Little Nerevar-Ku'ne sucked on his fingers and stared wide-eyed at the Tsaesci-Ashlander, then gurgled with a sloppy, wet grin.

"And don't forget these." Daerazal reached into his pack and dumped an armful of jeweled weapons at the Ashlander's feet. "Try not to use them all at once," he added with a wink. "Or, since you don't have six arms, I'd recommend selling a few of them to pad your pockets along the way."

"When you return from Akavir to Morrowind," Chizrae added, "look for a tomb on the road between Suran and Molag Mar. It will be guarded by ancestral spirits, so take care to slip past them with invisibility potions. There is a cavern hideout behind the shrine at the back of the tomb. It's where Daerazal lived when he first came to Morrowind. That's where I'll hide Nerevar's and Kagrenac's artifacts for you. I'll leave instructions for handling them, as well.

"If we return from Menzoberranzan before you return from Akavir, Daerazal has a ring that can teleport you into the cavern, instead. But once we move everything out of our estate in Seyda Neen, we won't be able to go back. Don't come looking for us there. I don't know where we will end up when all is said and done. We will come looking for you, instead."

Rindaalyn nodded in understanding, but was overwhelmed with his sudden turn of fate. "I don't know what to say. Thank you … all of you. And I will return the katana as soon as I come back," he promised Kielanai.

"_Ki wo tsukete, ne ... Rin-kun_," Kielanai smiled and kissed his ashen cheek. Then, after giving him a hug, the bard drew back to dry her eyes before they could fill with full-fledged tears.

When the others had offered their final farewell hugs, Talvalo took one last look at the interior of the galleon. "It's a big ship. Think you can handle it alone."

"No way. I'll be hiring a crew at the Waterfront docks before pulling out of here."

"If you can make it to Solstheim, I know a few hardy Nords from the _Sea Wolf_ that might love that kind of adventure. They might even be willing to trail you as a sister ship."

"I'll try to stop and ask." The youth grinned big enough to display his fangs, happy to know that, for the first time in his life he had a family … sad that they would not be able to make the journey with him this time. "Under sun and sky, Outlanders. I wish you safe travels … especially since there is no sun or sky where you're going."

Daerazal gave a nod of agreement to the other dark elf's salutation. "May darkness and shadows hide you from your foes," he gave the ironically opposite Drow blessing in return.

With no further excuses to delay the inevitable, Talvalo, Chizrae, Kielanai, and Daerazal gathered close with their travel gear in the center of the captain's den. Rindaalyn stepped back to the other side of the room out of their way. Drawing a silver key from his pocket, Talvalo activated its teleportation magic. The Altmer-and-Drow party faded in soft sworls of arcane energies, then the Tsaesci-Ashlander remained, alone.

Rindaalyn sighed at the sudden and heavy silence, then looked down at the Moon-and-Star on his finger. He had already decided his first stop in Morrowind before crossing the ocean would be the northern coast near the Ahemmusa Camp. They had turned him away as a child, but perhaps they would listen to him now.

He needed to return to his yurt outside of Vos and pack everything to move into his new home on the water. But more importantly, he would eventually have to persuade the Great Tribes and Great Houses to accept that, Incarnate or not, he had inherited Azura's blessing to speak as the long-lost Chimer king. That meant he would have to explain the Empire's role in hiring Chizrae to play the pretender. It also meant explaining Chizrae's theory regarding the prophecy.

He would be accused of blasphemy by the tribal wise women and chiefs. He might even be hunted by the Tribunal faithful. The Imperial sympathizers and Great Houses might regard him with suspicion now that the Emperor's line had ended. But to ward off the brewing civil war and heal his homeland, he needed alliances. There was no way he could do this Nerevarine thing as a one-man show.

Opening the door, the young captain headed out onto the deck of the ship entrusted to him. Lifting the anchor and pulling the sails, he checked his compass and looked toward the southern river. Secunda, the large pale moon, was visible in the clear, blue sky. Smiling to himself, the Dunmer scout jogged up the steps to the bridge to take the wheel and set sail.

))((

In Seyda Neen, at Chizrae's island estate, Kielanai claimed a daedric sword with a paralysis spell from the former Nerevarine's extensive armory. The Drowess also donated two of her favorite items toward the light elf's protection—an Amulet of Chameleon to cloak her presence when necessary, and a Ring of Great Heights to help her levitate to the high structures and caverns like most Drow in the Underdark could do. In return, the bard volunteered to mix up some alchemy potions, until the Drowess was packed and ready to leave.

Chizrae collected all the rare artifacts she had found or claimed during her quest to become the Nerevarine and wrapped them carefully in a soft, red cloth before putting them in a chest for safe-keeping. She took one last look at all the hard-earned treasure she was leaving behind, and then carried the chest to the main hall where Talvalo and Daerazal waited. She packed some food to last as long as possible, but then had a difficult time finding clothing to pack because of her half-arachnid form. In terms of armor, she really only had one choice—a short-waisted silver and white cuirass, with matching bracers, that shimmered in enchantments designed to shield the areas of the body that the actual armor did not.

Talvalo and Daerazal were both still waiting in the sitting area of the main hall near the fireplace when she returned downstairs. Talvalo sat quietly in a chair, as he watched Daerazal and Nerevar-Ku'ne on the floor. Daerazal lay on one side with his head propped on an elbow while the baby boy attempted fruitlessly to use him as a climbing apparatus. As soon as the baby grabbed his shirt securely enough to pull himself half-way up, his uncle would poke a finger in his ribs, pushing him back down on his padded bottom. Daerazal looked sleepy, but the baby was laughing and loving it.

Chizrae smiled as she softly entered the area and stopped at her brother's feet. "You're discouraging him from learning to stand."

"He seems to like it, or he wouldn't keep doing it." He poked the baby again and watched him fall, laughing at their game, but then he lifted his chin to look at his sister. "What are you supposed to be? An Eilistraeen drider?"

Chizrae returned a wry smile for his sarcasm at her silver and white armor. "No, but I like that. It might be fun to play with their minds a little—create some chaos of my own to chafe their hides."

"That armor is rather _bright_ for the tunnels, don't you think?"

"I don't want to be mistaken for an ordinary drider." She set down her bag to pick up her baby. "If people try to kill me the instant they see me, I won't be able to ask about the wish magic."

"Well, I think you'll succeed. I think you'll stand out as a drider with a fine set of armor worth looting," he muttered. As he sat up and stretched to stand, Kielanai came into the main hall with her armload of potions. Daerazal helped her divide and pack the bottles into their travel bags, but when he turned back to face his sister, Chizrae was fighting back tears as she hugged her son for what she was afraid would be the last time. Much as he hated to interrupt the unlikely moment, he knew that the longer they delayed, the harder it would be to tear her away. "Chiz …" He placed a hand on her shoulder.

The Drowess reluctantly released the baby to his father. Setting him in Talvalo's arms, she ran a hand gently over his soft, copper skin and downy, white hair. Then she kissed his cheek and looked up to Talvalo. "If we fail, make sure he knows … that I loved him."

Talvalo smiled sadly at how easily those words came to her now. "Every day," he promised.

"This isn't right." Kielanai shook her head. "It's just not right. There has to be some way that the three of you can stay together."

"Well ... the wish spell may be the answer we're hoping for," Talvalo quietly answered, trying to be positive in spite of the heartache. "I waited this long to be with her again. I can wait a little longer if it will put things right." He spoke the last sentence directly to his wife.

"Since the Llothians know where we live," he continued, "I'll be packing up everything else and moving it into the cavern with the items you set aside for Rindaalyn. I'll sell all the horses, except for the Azura, and tell the ranch to use the profits to pay for its extended boarding. I'll have Arrille advertise the manor for me, so I can sell it, too. Then I'll take Nerevar-Ku'ne and Loki with me to Imperial City, so Ilansa and Mother can help with the baby. If I feel we need to move elsewhere, I'll leave word with them."

"I have a cabin in Bruma you're welcome to use, if you don't mind a little snow," Kielanai offered. She set down her bag to look for the key.

"Loki would like that." Talvalo was grateful. "It will remind him of Solstheim."

Chizrae nodded in agreement with the plan, then turned to take one last look at her home. It was the first place she ever felt safe and secure. But now, Lloth had violated her sanctuary once more.

"My cabin is on the right at the front gate," the bard told the battlemage. "Just let the innkeeper at the Tap and Tack know you're my friend seeking refuge first, so he doesn't call the guards on you for breaking in." As she found the key, she heard her own words and paused as an idea came to her. "_Baka!_" she smacked her own forehead. "_Baka, baka, baka!_ Why didn't I think of that before? That's it!"

The other three elves registered doubtful expressions for the outburst.

"Daerazal, didn't you say you knew of an Eilistraeen community near Skullport? The one where you made your vow?"

"Promenade? The red dragon burned it down."

"Did they rebuild? Are the Eilistraeens still there? As an Eilistraeen knight; maybe you could ask them for refuge. Surely they'd sympathize with what Lloth has put Chizrae through and be willing to shelter her and her family," she suggested in growing excitement. "Eilistraee's priestesses would intervene for the baby's safety if necessary, wouldn't they? Then you and I could go after the wish ring, while Chizrae and her family stay together in a safe place. You could even make this a quest to regain the favor of that goddess for your broken first-blood vow … if you want your knighthood back."

The other elves exchanged glances. "Promenade and Menzoberrazan aren't anywhere near each other," Chizrae spoke. "It would be a long journey from one to the other."

"It would be better than being entire worlds apart," Talvalo countered.

Daerazal began to catch Kielanai's enthusiasm for this possibility. "There are several other Eilistraeen communities we could try if one objects. You might even be able to ask for help from the Calisham priestess that asked you to spy on Guallidurth and steal that damned rod from House Nardool in the first place. She would be willing to let you stay with her, wouldn't she? She owes you one."

Chizrae shook her head immediately rejecting that option. "Calisham is too close to Guallidurth. I won't take chances on returning to House Nardool's dungeon."

"Then, we'll pick some other place. Asking for refuge among Eilistraeens is a viable option," he insisted.

"I say we do it." Talvalo agreed, passing the baby back into Chizrae's arms.

Chizrae was less certain. As she looked at her baby and his half-gold-elf heritage, she couldn't imagine any scenario that involved taking him into the Underdark turning out well. But she had such little time left, and she didn't want to spend it all away from him.

Looking to Talvalo, she smiled and touched his cheek. "You would be willing to do this? You will _both_ be in danger living in the Realms Below, where your kind are hunted like animals."

Talvalo gave a short laugh and grinned. "I'm a pirate, woman. I live for adventure! And anyone attacking me might get more of an animal than they bargained for."

Daerazal took the baby from his sister. "Go pack the kid's things," he ordered.

"What's not staying as part of the estate can be packed and taken to the caverns now, so we can reclaim it when we come back," Talvalo decided.

Kielanai grinned at the new plan.

The Drowess nodded in slow acceptance of everyone's support and enthusiasm. While there was still hope, she scurried back upstairs on her spider legs to pack the baby's necessities.

))((

Talvalo released his grin with an exhale of doubt. "I do _not_ live for adventure. I enjoyed having a cushy life of luxury here. What have I gotten myself into?" The battlemage picked up his already dusty travel bag. "Guess there's no need to unpack this, after all."

Daerazal passed the baby to Kielanai, but spoke to his brother-in-law as he picked up the Nerevarine chest. "Well, we have no oceans in the Underdark, but we have lots of deep, black lakes; long, dark tunnels; hard rock to sleep on; wild animals that jump at you from the shadows … and if you get homesick for the sun, we can have Kielanai flash a light spell into your face. You'll love it."

Kielanai turned the baby to see his happy little face. He was blissfully ignorant of all the tragedy and danger going on around him. How she envied him. "You're going to be living in a very dark and scary place, Little Man. But don't worry. It's only temporary, and you have the best bodyguards in the world. We won't let anything happen to you."

Daerazal nudged her shoulder with his own. "Put him on the floor, then push him down when he tries to stand up. He loves it," he hinted.

Kielanai was doubtful. "Is that some kind of demented Drow game from your childhood? No wonder you turned out so warped."

"At least I didn't poke fish eyes out of their heads for fun when I was a kid."

Talvalo chuckled at their exchange and began stacking belongings going with them to the Underdark in the entrance hall.

The bard was stumped at the unexpected mention of that memory, gave her childhood friend an annoyed glance for laughing, but then realized there was only one person who could have tattled on her about that. Sighing with disgust, she shifted the baby against her hip. "My father tried to scare you off of me, didn't he?"

"It almost worked. You have to admit having a thing for fish innards is worse than fangs and leather," Daerazal assured her with a subdued, yet playful expression as he took the chest into the entrance hall to keep it separate from everything else being packed.

"Way too much information … " Talvalo audibly muttered in passing on his way to start packing the basement level rooms.

))((

When Daerazal's secret cavern in the rocky wastelands between Suran and Molag Mar was stuffed to the ceiling with Talvalo and Chizrae's personal belongings, the Drowess left a note for Rindaalyn to find near the Nerevarine chest. Then she set a worn, dirty book over it—her journal from her travels during that quest, in case he found it useful.

"We should trap it somehow, in case anyone else finds this place," Talvalo suggested as he patted Loki. The big, black wolf was sniffing each crate, barrel, and chest, as if thinking one of them might have hidden treats.

"If anyone else finds this place, they'll die of shock from their good fortune." Daerazal muttered.

"Azura will do a better job at protecting this place than we ever could." The Drowess removed one last item from her bag—a statuette she had tucked away with the journal during the packing process. She set the Azura statuette in the middle of the treasury, said a short prayer to the Daedric Prince, then walked away and closed the door. Locking it, she took the key.

As the bard strolled toward the kitchen area with the others, she admired the soft blue and purple faerie fire that lit the cavern hideout. "This is what I kept hoping to find in House Nardool—a darkness that soothes and comforts like your moon garden. This place could actually make a cozy little home."

"It _was_ a cozy little home," Daerazal reminded her. "Oh, before I forget …" The Drow reached into his pack and removed the stolen sigil stone, which he then handed to his sister.

Chizrae blinked at it in curiosity for a moment. "Where did you get this?"

"It's the ioun stone House Nardool used for the gate to Akavir. I thought it would be safer with you."

"Because it's my stone?" she countered in a pert tone.

"What?"

"It's _my_ stone," she repeated and frowned at him. "It's the one that I used to come to Morrowind, but I gave it to Kimmuriel in exchange for the Dwemer scroll, so I could return it to Arcane University."

Talvalo took it to double-check. It was, indeed, the same stone. "Jiub said Kimmuriel is the one that encouraged him to go to Guallidurth. Think he's got something against Chiz?"

"Kimmuriel hates Llothians," Daerazal answered. "He has no reason to trap Chizrae in a Llothian noble house. Jiub probably stole it from him and used it to bribe Matron Drael."

"I wouldn't rule out anything concerning that thief ... or that psion," Chizrae inserted her opinion.

"Actually … I was thinking we should speak with Kimmuriel first. He was there when the wish ring was found, and he has eyes and ears hidden everywhere in Menzoberranzan. He may be our biggest asset."

Talvalo snorted. "Now there's a scary thought."

Daerazal reached into one of the barrels to pull out a cloth-covered book. The cloth was laced with runes and glowed with a magic designed to repel other magic—the only safe way to handle the portal within without activating it.

Chizrae took her stone back and tucked it into her bag. Lifting her baby from Kielanai's arms, she gave his chubby cheek a kiss. "Hang on tight. We're going for another magical ride."

Daerazal smiled a little as he removed the protective cloth from the shimmering blue book. "Gather round, friends. Menzoberranzan awaits."

"Friends?" Kielanai slipped her arm around his. "I thought you didn't have any friends."

"Actually, you're right. I have a bossy sister, an annoying brother-in-law, a 'cute' nephew—who takes after me—and then there's you. But I can't figure out what you are yet."

Kielanai smiled at his assessment and glanced over the group to make sure their little family was interlinked and ready, then curiosity compelled her to reach across him and set her hand on the book. She didn't even have to open it before the magic rushed and swirled around them, whisking them away to the Realms Below.

))((

Within the locked treasury, the statue of Azura glowed with a pale blue light to summon the ghost of a long-lost Chimer king to guard the room.

The General smiled to himself, pleased that other spirits had been willing to answer Rindaalyn's ancestor summons while in Akavir. He could wait however long it took for the Nerevarine and his ring to return to Morrowind and call on him again.

))((

Author's Note:

Thanks to everyone who stuck with it this far, _especially_ to everyone who took the time and effort to leave reviews. I had a lot of fun writing this story, and I hope you found it entertaining. :)


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